


Let Me Save You This Time

by Drabble_By_Ash



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Drowning, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experiences, Temporary Character Death, mild violence, minecraft au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 15:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 66,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15709836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drabble_By_Ash/pseuds/Drabble_By_Ash
Summary: They’d gone to the End, of all places. Six adventurers from Achievement City, clad in armor and loaded down with weapons, had searched long and hard for the End portal. They’d fought through bloody scores of Endermen to activate it, and when they’d stepped through, they did so with heads held high and smiles plastered across honest faces. It was to be their crowning achievement, and they were more than ready to be done with it all and return home.And, predictably, it all went to shit.





	1. Chapter 1

They’d gone to the End, of all places. Six adventurers from Achievement City, clad in armor and loaded down with weapons, had searched long and hard for the End portal. They’d fought through bloody scores of Endermen to activate it, and when they’d stepped through, they did so with heads held high and smiles plastered across honest faces. It was to be their crowning achievement, and they were more than ready to be done with it all and return home.

And then they’d finally laid eyes upon it, the guardian of the End. With glowing eyes and spikes protruding along the length of its body, it towered above them. For the first time, they got a good hard look at what they’d fought so hard to get to. It was terrifying, to say the least. But they’d come prepared for a fight, and they stood ready.

Lowering its long head to meet their eyes, the dragon stared them down. Large, dripping fangs were on full display, nearly a forearm in length each. Claws dug into the dark ground of the End as it braced itself and dropped open its jaw. Something crackled in the air and suddenly all six adventurers dove in separate directions.

The pillar of enderflame nearly caught Ryan’s arm as he dove for cover. Even though the fire had missed, the metal on his arm felt too hot and he had to fight back the urge to rip it off. He scrambled to his feet, hands fumbling to draw his bow. Somewhere to his left he heard Jeremy laughing, and Michael came charging forward. His diamond blade was raised, greedy for fresh, exotic blood. The dragon swiveled its great head to bite at him, and Ryan took the opportunity to let loose a small flurry of arrows. A couple bounced harmlessly away, lost to the rocky terrain, but a few managed to slide into areas between the glossy black scales. Granted, they hadn’t done too much damage.

There was another sharp crackle as another blast of enderflame was generated, and Ryan could hear Jack crying for someone to get down. A pillar of purple fire cried above him, and he swore loudly as he ducked under his arms. Taking a deep breath, he crawled forward, keeping low to the ground. There was a shout, Gavin to Michael, and a cry. Before Ryan could peek out and investigate though, the dragon threw its head back and replied in kind.

The dragon’s roar was like a peal of thunder. Ryan felt it reverberate through his chest, making his blood run suddenly very cold. Fear made his head swam, but there was also a shock of thrill that ran through his body. Everything was loud and alive and it was exhilarating. It had been a while since they’d had a good, hard fight, and it was almost enough to make him giddy. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. Now wasn’t the time to get excited. Now was the time to be smart.

He sprang to his feet, turning swiftly to aim again at the beast. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Michael kneeling on the ground, blade raised to defend. There was a dark pool slowly growing around him, but Ryan couldn’t quite see where he was injured. His blood thrummed in his ears as he watched the beast stalk towards his friend. He needed its attention, just long enough to give Michael an opening to get away.

“Michael!” He cried, letting his arrow fly. It went wide, barely knocking against the enormous creature’s spiny back. But it had done its job and grabbed the dragon’s attention. In one fluid motion, the beast turned and lunged, large claws coming down to rack the stone in front of Ryan. He gasped, fell back as the ground shook. The beast swiped again, and as glistening talons closed in on him, Ryan held his breath.

He didn’t know how, but suddenly there was Jack, his huge ax glancing off the dragon’s claw. And Jeremy was behind him, hauling Ryan to his feet and dragging him away. He barely registered each quick step as they ran for cover, but kept pace nonetheless.

“You alright there buddy?” Jeremy gave Ryan’s shoulder a light shake, seemingly bringing the man back to Earth.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s alright. I got your back.”

Ryan nodded. Jeremy grinned and let out a whoop as he leapt back into the fray. With Jack distracting the dragon, Jeremy managed to run up behind the beast and throw himself forward. Sure hands clung to the creature as the stout warrior clambered his way onto its back.

“Jeremy, what the bloody hell are you doing Jeremy?” Gavin’s arrows provided enough cover for Geoff to have dragged Michael to the side. The injured warrior laughed heartily, his bright eyes watching Jeremy move up the creature.

The dragon thrashed, swinging its head this way and that to pick at the ant crawling up its spine. When it became clear that wasn’t working, it changed tactics. Muscles in its enormous legs twitched and bunched, and it spread wide its leathery wings.

“It’s taking off. Jeremy!” Ryan hollered, letting another small volley of arrows loose. They ripped through the webbing of the wings, and the dragon screamed. With a victorious cheer, Ryan kept up his speed, slowly circling as he perforated the wings.

It only took Gavin a moment to piece together what Ryan was doing, and then he too started firing. Again, the dragon roared and again it made Ryan’s blood freeze. Swallowing the dread that had begun to creep up, he continued his slow pacing, launching arrow after arrow at the beast. Suddenly, it sprang forward, and beat its injured wings. Geoff pulled Michael aside, and Gavin disappeared into the rocks with a squawk. Jack, having been hacking away at a front leg, rolled forward when the creature surged, ending up underneath its belly. Without hesitation, he took to ripping open the soft, unguarded skin there.

The sudden lurch forward had knocked Jeremy back, but he still held tight to its back. Despite the danger, he laughed as he struggled to regain his footing. And down below, Michael replied in kind. Whatever wound he sported, it wasn’t enough to keep the fur-clad warrior out of the fray for long. His blade sung through the air as he began to hack and slash at the wounded leg abandoned by Jack. A couple good strikes and Michael was through enough sinew and muscle for the dragon’s leg to give way, and the beast fell forward. Jeremy used the forward momentum to slide forward, situate himself on the point where the dragon’s head met his neck. In a flash, his sword found its target. The battle-worn metal crashed harshly into the dragon’s eye.

Everyone cheered as the creature screamed. Ryan smiled as he reached behind him to grab another arrow, only to find his quiver empty. He shrugged his bow onto his back and finally drew the sword that had hung at his waist. Jack dashed away again, carefully watching the remaining three legs. Kicking wildly, the dragon attempted to catch any of its attackers while its head tucked low, away from Jeremy’s sword.

The lad whooped loudly as he abandoned his position, landing into a roll and darting away to cover in the rocks. Michael and Jack took turns jabbing at the prone creature while Geoff covered Gavin as the archer continued to take pot shots. Ryan took a deep breath, ready to throw himself in line with Michael and Jack. He’d just stepped out of cover when he heard the clicking. As before, everyone scattered in preparation for the blast. Geoff pushed Gavin back, trying to get the lad behind cover, but left himself exposed.

Without a second thought, Ryan threw himself forward. He barreled into Geoff, knocking the both to the ground as the world exploded around them. Gavin shrieked somewhere as the gents struggled to quickly untangle themselves.

“Geoff, look out!” Jack screamed, and Ryan looked up to see why. The dragon’s long, black claws were coming down upon them. Again, Ryan acted without thinking. Grabbing Geoff, he rolled them over so he hovered above him. The sound of his bow and armor crunching filled his ears before the pain registered. And then he experienced the rather unpleasant sensation of having one’s back torn asunder. A scream tore out of him as he collapsed forward, Geoff still underneath him. He was breathing hard as hands moved him, but he couldn’t see who it was, his eyes screwed shut against the radiating pain.

Next to him, he heard Geoff cry out, “Jack, we need help over here!”

Someone was next to him as he struggled to breath, and when he finally opened his eyes, he was met with Gavin’s face right next to his. What was he doing? They still had to stop the dragon. There was no time for this right now.

“Ryan, hey. Lovely Ryan, look at me. We’re going to get you fixed up, yeah? You’ll be top in no time.” Gavin smiled at him, and even through the haze of pain, Ryan could tell it didn’t reach his eyes. There was another roar, somewhat faded. No, that wasn’t right. Everything sounded faded. Everything was getting quiet except for the ringing. When had the ringing started?

There was cheering, or at least he thought there was. Maybe Michael? Or could it have been Jeremy? And then Jack was there, pushing past Gavin to get a look at him. What was he looking for? Dimly, Ryan reminded himself that he was hurt. But there wasn’t any pain anymore. Gavin had said he’d be top. Was he top now? He couldn’t remember getting help. But then there should have been pain.

It was cold out. That was wrong too. It was summer. It should be warm. It was warm earlier. Jack had him lying on his stomach, head turned to the side. He could barely see, everything foggy and distant, But he could see the dragon, lying in a pool of dark blood. The one uninjured eye was focused on him, or at least he thought it was, he watched it back, not breaking the contact.

 _You’re dying_ , he told himself softly. He’d always thought dying would hurt worse, but he found it strangely numb. Of course, he knew the gashes in his back ought to be agony. Instead, he just felt a strange heaviness, and the ringing in his head grew louder. It was too loud, he thought, but couldn’t shake it off. Really, he couldn’t do much, and eventually everything dimmed and the static in his head went out and he was cold.

Strangely, or perhaps thankfully, he was unafraid. Death didn’t scare him, and it really never did when he thought about it. Everyone does it eventually, and adventurers seldom went peacefully. If he had to choose, going out fighting a dragon was a pretty damn good way to do it. Something epic, worth a telling as a story, and he hoped it would be a good one, something the guys could tell everyone back home. Maybe they’d even call him a hero, like in the stories he’d heard as a kid. The thought alone made him giddy.

And then he was gone, all those years gone in the blink of an eye.

…

“What if I told you that you didn’t have to die today?”


	2. Chapter 2

“You carry within your heart so much love for those you call friends. Are you so ready to give them up, to let them mourn while I have given you a second chance?”

…

There was a humming thought his entire body. It bounced around his head and made his teeth buzz. He tried to lift his arm to cover his ears, but something kept them pinned down. Frantically, he tugged at his limbs, trying to move even the slightest. He wanted to shout, but his mouth too was held shut. The humming grew louder and louder and blocked out any sort of rational thought in his head.

He was warm, too warm, burning from the inside out. And he felt heavy, crushed, struggling to get a good breath in. Panic crept into him, and if he could have, he’d scream in frustration.

And then it all broke, like cutting a taught thread.

...

Michael shifted, wincing as he lifted his arm wrong and pulled at the cut on his side. One of the dragon’s claws had gotten him, not enough to do any lasting damage, but enough that the warrior was thoroughly annoyed. The sloppy bandages itched and the health potion he’d drunk earlier had dulled the pain, but he’d deal with properly treating it later. Right then he was more focused on watching Gavin.

The lad in question had stripped off his outer layers, sitting just a ways off in his pants and a loose shirt. Resolutely, he refused to look at the bundled scarf and his green over shirt. Both were stained dark, and Michael figured there wasn’t much hope in saving them. Probably he’d save the creeper-print scarf and see how much blood he could get out of it. It meant a lot to Gavin, and Michael couldn’t imagine him without it.

Tearing his eyes away from the scene unfolding across the clearing, he looked back at the archer. He couldn’t watch Jack anymore, not if… He’ll make it, Michael told himself. Just focus on Gavin. You can help Gavin.

He sat down next to him, letting their shoulders brush slightly. Gavin looked up, his face pale and his green eyes wide. “How you holding up Boi?”

“There was so much blood Michael.” His voice was soft, distant, and Michael hated it. “God I can still feel it all over me.”

“Gavin, stop.” He didn’t have the heart to tell him that his hair was red from where he’d run his hands through it, or that there were smudges all up his arms.

“But there was just too much. And he wasn’t bloody moving, and…”

“Gavin, I said stop, alright?” Michael snapped and Gavin instantly fell silent. “Jack’s got this. Ryan’ll be fine.”

“But how do you know, Michael?”

“Cause it's Ryan!” He threw his good arm up in mock exasperation, lightly knocking Gavin, who squawked loudly. “Its Ryan and he’s always fine. You think he’d go out that easily?”

Gavin was quiet for a moment. “He wasn’t breathing. I had him in my arms and I couldn’t feel him breathing anymore.” He curled up, drew his knees against his chest and buried his face in his hands. A shaky breath, his attempt at keeping back fresh tears, and Michael swore under his breath.

“He’ll be fine.” He just had to keep saying it. Maybe he’d start to really believe it.

…

He gasped awake, an intense roaring in his head replacing the maddening humming. On instinct, he tried to curl away from it. Before he knew it, the world was eclipsed by raw agony. He was trembling, or maybe shivering, even though he still felt the too strong heat wrapping around him. His heart was jack-rabbiting in his chest, his breathing too fast, and his lungs felt like he’d been holding his breath for longer than he could.

There were voices around him, shouting and talking all at once. Part of him dimly said that he knew them, but the rest of his mind was blank with pain. Whoever they were, they were close, too close, and he wanted to push them away. He needed space to catch his breath. Why was it so hard to breathe? If they’d just give him a minute, he could figure out why.

Someone touched his back, and he bit back the urge to scream as a wave of nausea hit him hard. He managed a strangled groan, and tried to roll away. Someone said something, maybe to him or maybe to one off the other voices. Suddenly there were more hands touching him, holding him in place. Panic flashed again and he squirmed despite the pain. He needed to get away, needed them to stop, needed-

“Rye, hey. Ryan, I need you to calm down.” Geoff, he thought dimly. His voice sounded high and tight and it didn’t help. It was the voice he used when one of the lads was hurt. “We’ve got you buddy.”

“Jeremy, hand me another splash potion.” Behind him, out of sight, Jack sounded strained. Maybe to someone on the outside he sounded cool and collected, but Ryan knew better. He was worried, and that was never a good sign.

Before he could dwell on it anymore though, there was suddenly hot liquid poured on his wounds. His muscles tightened and he hissed out a breath through gritted teeth. Someone carded their fingers through his hair, a futile attempt to soothe him. The gesture had almost gone unnoticed past the much more pressing matter of his back.

Without meaning to, he’d pressed his face into the rough dirt, and he was faintly aware of the small scratches the rocks were making in his skin. He tried to focus on the feeling, tried to shift his thoughts elsewhere as strong hands continued to work over his back. Deep breathes, he told himself, deep breath in and hold it. It was easier said than done though, and if felt like there wasn’t any air getting into his lungs at all. Dizzy, he gasped, trying desperately to get a good gulp or air, just one.

“Ryan, buddy, you’ve gotta calm down. It’ll be over soon.” Ryan didn’t need to see him to know the face Jeremy was making. Lips thin, brows furrowed as he concentrated at the task on hand. “Jack, is there anything else we can do?”

“I’m doing everything I can. The health potion can only take him so far. Give it a minute or so and it should start taking the edge off.” Ryan wasn’t sure if Jack was talking to him, but he tried to nod regardless. Moving his head made everything swim, and he pressed it into the dirt again. Anything to ground himself. Focus on breathing, he told himself. Everything else can wait. It’ll work faster if you just relax a little.

…

They sat like that for a while, trying to ignore what was happening not too far off. Jack’s low voice was calling to Jeremy for a potion, a clean rag, hold pressure here and there. Gavin pushed his hands over his ears, whining softly when it didn’t block out everything.

And then there was a lot of noise, enough for Michael to pat Gavin’s shoulder and move closer. From where he was, he couldn’t see Ryan, but the way Geoff and Jeremy hung close around and the shift in Jack’s demeanor had him holding his breath. C’mon Rye, don’t do this shit to us.

“Do you think-” Gavin started, and Michael spun around to see him staring far off.

“Ask me one more time about Ryan and I’m gonna punch you,” Michael cut him off with a huff.

Gavin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I wasn’t gonna. I was gonna ask if you thought the dragon knows it’ll come back.”

“Well,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “it’s not coming back Gav. We kinda ripped its guts out.”

“Well, not like ‘come back’ back, right?” He’d turned to face Michael, and the warrior could clearly see the wheels in his head turning. “Like, does it know that it’ll be reborn as a little baby? Or does it think that this is just it?”

“There wasn’t an egg though. I think that respawn stuff is just horseshit.” Granted, and he’d admit it if asked, he hadn’t searched very thoroughly. His mind had kind of been elsewhere, and he would argue that gave his carelessness some credibility.

“Maybe we did it wrong?”

“How much can you mess up killing something? It’s like the easiest thing to do!”

“Maybe for you.”

“Maybe for everyone who isn’t a five-year-old.”

“Micool, that’s mean Micool.” Gavin stuck his chin up, a small smile ghosting his lips. It was nice, just to squabble. It felt light, familiar, safe.

…

There was a pause before anyone spoke again, Jack silently wrapping up the wounds on Ryan’s back. Geoff sounded tired, although Ryan didn’t blame him. It’d been a long day; they all deserved a rest. “I wanna get out of here as soon as possible, Jack.”

“I do too, believe me. I’ve got the bleeding under control right now, so we’ll try an oral potion here in a bit if he stays calm. That should hold him until we can get back to camp. Then I can really get in there and treat it. And Michael too. It’s a nasty cut on his side, but he’ll live.”

Jack was right. Between the potion and finally starting to calm down, Ryan felt the fog of pain lift slightly. It was by no means pleasant, but it was enough to finally chase away the lingering panic he felt. Finally, he felt like he could breathe, though every breath sent spasms through his back.

After what felt like an eternity of struggling in the dark, Ryan opened his eyes. The End seemed different somehow. Colors were more vibrant, and everything looked sharper. Maybe he’d just not noticed before; they’d been in such a rush earlier. But it looked pretty, in a strange way. Like home, he thought, though even he didn’t quite understand why. But the sight made something stir in him and if he never had to leave, then that’d be alright.

There was a humming, no particular tune if it even was a song, and it took everyone a moment to realize it was Ryan. His eyes were unfocused, tired, as they drifted across the landscape. Geoff untangled his fingers from Ryan’s hair, having kept softly comforting him through the worst of the pain, and touched his cheek gently. The gent barely stirred, just a flick of his eyes towards Geoff showed that he had even noticed.

“That potions working, ain’t it?” His voice was softer, less tense and tenderer. It was the same voice used on late nights, when someone needed a shoulder to lean on or an ear to listen. Ryan couldn’t recall a time when it’d been used on him. Normally, he’d hate it, or at least laugh off the concern. But his mind was still reeling from everything that had happened.

“Hurts like a bitch,” Ryan managed, his voice rough and his words cracking. While humming had been fine - though he hadn’t realized he’d been doing that - talking hurt. He coughed, which pulled on his wounds in the worst way. Groaning, he shut his eyes against the fresh wave of pain.

“We can try another potion for that. It’s not gonna fix you up, but it’ll at least make it a little more bearable. I wanna get you to camp so you can really start resting up.” Jack was already rustling through his bag, glass bottles clinking as he searched. “We’ll have to sit you up though, so you can drink it. It’s not gonna be fun, but it’s gotta happen. That okay?”

Ryan nodded, and them Jeremy and Geoff managed to manhandle him up. Jeremy stayed next him, taking most of the weight as the gent leaned on him. For a moment, he fought back a new wave of nausea as his body screamed. It passed, or rather he did his best at blocking it out, and Jack pressed a cold bottle to his lips.

The potion was warm and sweet as he drank it. He could feel it down his throat, and it made him cough again. Jeremy rubbed his shoulder as he winced. And as time passed, the pain ebbed off just a little more, dipped down into being an annoyance more than anything. It was enough for Ryan to realize he was exhausted, worn out all the way to the bone. He could very well fall asleep on Jeremy, and he probably wouldn’t mind. His eyes dropped closed, and he could feel himself drifting.

A quiet moment passed before Jeremy whispered, “I think he’s falling asleep.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Jack replied. “It’ll be easier to move him through the portal this way. Well, on him at least.”

“I’ll get the lads then. Gavin’s stomach should have settled by now.” Geoff rose and walked off to find the remaining two adventurers.

“In his defense,” Jeremy said, “it was a fuck ton of blood.”

Jack was quiet for a moment, and Ryan tried to hold on long enough to hear a reply. “I was worried.” An approving hum from Jeremy, and then Ryan was falling fast asleep.

…

“Persevere, Human. We’ve not come this far to have you give up so easily.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, things start getting a little more lighthearted after this. Shenanigans ensue!  
> Also, based on my rough outline so far, we're looking at 15-20 chapters total here, so we've got a little ways to go still!


	3. Chapter 3

 

Ryan slept soundly as they bundled him through the portal, at they made their way back to camp, as the day grew long and morphed into night. Jack left Jeremy watching over him, although he’d given no sign of waking anytime soon. “Which is fine,” Jack assured everyone. “Sleep means healing, so the more he rests, the better he’ll be.”

Everyone else crashed hard. Fighting a dragon took a lot out of a person, and Michael and Jeremy hadn’t exactly gotten out unscathed. The cut on Michael’s side wasn’t life-threatening, but Jack made a point to tend to it properly. A good cleaning and a couple of stitches and it was practically good as new. There was also an order to go to bed and rest up, but, predictably, it was ignored.

Jeremy was in better shape. His hands were torn open, and he was bruised from the fall, but it was fine. He’d had worse just from normal patrols and run-ins with mobs. He too politely declined rest, choosing instead to watch Ryan. Jack didn’t mention it, but he caught the worry on the lad’s face. And Jack certainly didn’t mention catching Jeremy sleeping in his chair when he checked on them a few hours later, just wordlessly threw a blanket over his lap and let him be.

When everyone else was settled down and patched up, Jack finally turned to himself. There were bruises on his arms and chest, cuts and scrapes over his shoulders and legs. And he was sore, right down to his core. But he couldn’t sleep. Everything just kept replaying in his head. The surge of adrenaline from a good fight, the swell of pride at how everyone worked together, and the crushing fear upon seeing Ryan cradled in Gavin’s arms, still and pale. _Dead_ , his brain helpfully supplied, because that was just it, wasn’t it? He’d died, right there on the battlefield, and Jack’s heart had shattered knowing there was nothing he could do. All his training, all his practice and skill couldn’t bring the dead back to life.

He tried, at any rate. A splash potion of healing, some vain attempts to get him breathing, but nothing worked. He wouldn’t look at Geoff, couldn’t look at Geoff. There would have been too much expectation in those blue-gray eyes. And he couldn’t look at Gavin either. He was frowning, holding back tears, and it was too much to see him without a smile.

And just as his eyes had started to water, and his world crashed down around him, Ryan was back. Gasping and shaking and terrified, but alive. Then there was no time, only work as he set his mind to saving his friend. No one would take his family apart, not when he could help it.

He fell asleep with the first rays of morning streaming through his window.

…

“Jeremy, go to bed buddy.”

The lad jerked awake, nearly flinging himself from his chair. He spun around, legs kicking wildly, until he could see Geoff in the doorway. He looked beat, and Jeremy tried not to flinch at the sight. It was never easy to see Geoff so disheveled and out of control. Sometimes they’d rile him up on purpose, frazzle him until he was screaming and swearing and on the verge of losing his mind. But this was different, a quiet despair that seemed to beat him into the earth.

Jeremy shook himself, throwing the last vestiges of sleep out. “I’m watching Ryan. Jack told me to.”

“Can’t be that interesting, can it?” Geoff sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Ryan barely stirred, simply shuffling under the blankets and growing still once more.

Jeremy watched with sharp eyes, making sure Ryan was still fast asleep before speaking. “I don’t want him to wake up alone. If it were me-“

The older man waved his hand. “I get it, you don’t have to explain anything. But you’re tired, and you need some good sleep in an actual bed.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine, really. Clean bill of health from Jack and all that. I just wanna stay here, do something useful, ya know?”

It wasn’t easy to see someone hurt, especially when you know you can’t do anything about it. He hated it, that uselessness, feeling inferior and unimportant. Bitterly, he thought he felt it too much lately. There were roles within the adventures, places where people fell over time and flourished. Geoff was the leader, and Jack was right there with him, acting as the groups designated medic. Michael was a natural warrior, seemingly born for battle, whereas Ryan fell into the role of protector perhaps too well at times. Even Gavin, with all his clumsiness and silliness, was the best damn archer Jeremy had ever met.

But Jeremy? He was nothing, just someone to fill in the shoes of someone else, until he’s replaced. While it has never been said outright, Jeremy knew. He wasn’t cut out for his life, not with these people. He was too green, too reckless, too _himself_. One day the other shoe would drop, they’d tell him they’d found a real sixth member for the group. He could go back to being a second-rate citizen again. And it killed him because they were good people, fun and lively, and they’d opened their arms to him so willingly. Leaving would kill him.

“I can hear you thinking from here. What’s up Lil’ J?”

He furrowed his brows, looked away, but felt those sleepy eyes watching him. “It’s nothing, just been a long days, I guess.”

“Yeah no shit. That’s why I’m here. Go get some sleep and I’ll watch Rye.”

With a sigh, Jeremy rose, half-heartedly tossing his blanket at Geoff. The older man chuckled as he settled into the chair, leaning back lazily. The lad hesitated by the door through, rocking back on his heels for a moment before looking back at Geoff.

“Lemme know when he wakes up? I wanna help.”

Geoff waved him off. “Of course. Now bed, I mean it. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

…

As Jeremy left to one of the other rooms in the small cabin, Geoff knew he’d messed up. Of course there was something bugging Lil’ J. It wasn’t just a long day, but damn had it been a long day. There was something more there and he knew he should have tried harder. _You can’t brush everything off_.

But it was easier this way, with problems that could be solved with a nap. It was easier to ignore how Jack ran himself into the ground, or how Gavin looked unspeakably guilty, or how Jeremy didn’t seem as boisterous as usual. _They’re tired,_ he told himself, _once everyone is healed up and we’re back home, everything will be fine._ It was easy to pretend like everyone wasn’t falling apart around him, hadn’t for a while.

He looked at the hands folded neatly in his lap and tried to ignore the tremors. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t standing on the verge of a breakdown. He wasn’t falling apart day by day. He was the leader, strong and sane and together.

And god was it exhausting.

…

Gavin was in the other bedroom when Jeremy came in. He looked at Jeremy blankly, as if he couldn’t figure out who he was for a minute. Like everyone, he just looked worn out, stretched thin, with hair sticking up in strange ways and dark circle under his eyes like bruises. Joining him on the edge of the bed, Jeremy pat his shoulder.

“You okay Gav?” The blond lad looked away, shaking his head. “You’re worried about Ryan too, aren’t you?”

“He’s a right prick sometimes, Jeremy.”

“Yeah.” He gave a huff of laughter that lacked any real feeling behind it. “But he’s gonna be okay.”

“Jack said he’s too warm, probably a fever.”

“Yeah, well, if anyone can fix him up, it’s Jack.”

There was a moment before Gavin spoke again. “He’s gonna have scars.”

Jeremy shrugged. “We’ve all got scars.”

“Yeah, but not like that. He’ll have these big gashes down his back. He won’t be able to ignore them.”

They lapsed into silence again, Jeremy picking at the fibers of the blanket underneath them. Gavin just seemed to fold in on himself, looking small and terrified. Jeremy hated it, and he could feel that useless feeling bubbled back up. With a sigh, he leaned over, resting his head on Gavin’s shoulder. The other man jumped slightly, but after a moment he relaxed into the contact.

After a moment, Jeremy spoke again. “You gonna visit him? He’s still sleeping, but-“

“I can’t. I just-“ Gavin cut himself off with a sob, and Jeremy found himself rubbing a hand across his back. “It’s my fault he got hurt like that Jeremy!” He held his head in his hands, fingers making his unruly hair even worse. Jeremy kept up his soft motions, waiting patiently for Gavin to look back up.

“It’s no one’s fault Gav.”

“It was my bloody idea to go to the End though!”

“Yeah and we all talked about it. We knew the risks and we all agreed to go. No one forced anyone to go. And you didn’t make the dragon go after Ryan. He did that-“

“I did thought,” Gavin said softly. “I really did. I wasn’t quick enough and Geoff had to try and make sure I got out of the way and if I’d just been better then Ryan wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” He worked himself into a frenzy, voice growing louder and quicker and he started shaking under his friend’s arm.

Jeremy took his face in his hands, forcing him to look him in the eye. “You didn’t do this. Any one of us would have done the same thing. You need to calm down.”

“But Ryan-“

“Michael got hurt saving me from a creeper once, when we were on a supply run. And I’ve been hurt dragging Geoff out of too many messes to count. You’ve taken hits for us. We’ve taken hits for you.”

Gavin looked at him, green eyes big and pleading. “But never that bad.”

Jeremy rested a firm hand on Gavin’s slumped shoulder. “He’d do it again, we all would. We’re family, Gavin, and family looks after their own.”

“I just,” Gavin waved his hands faintly. “I just want us all to be okay.”

“We will be, just give it a little time.”

Gavin nodded and leaned in as Jeremy pulled him in for a tight hug.

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too Gav,” was all he could manage as he felt a blush creep up his cheeks.

…

It was mid-day when Ryan finally woke. For a hazy moment, he wondered where he was, but the sight of Geoff softly snoring beside him assured him he was safe. There was a strange numbness to him, a feeling of detachment from his body. Something Jack gave him, he assured himself. Really, so long as he didn’t feel pain, he didn’t really care.

He was thirsty, his throat thick when he swallowed, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake Geoff yet. He’d complain about the crick in his neck for the next day or two, but Ryan figured he probably needed the rest. He could almost look forward to the bitching. Granted, he was looking forward to everything falling back into place and leaving this whole dragon nonsense behind. Although, if he knew his friends, they’d be hovering around like new mothers until he was back to normal. If he were speaking honestly, he wasn’t keen on that. He was fine now, alive by some miracle, and that was good enough for him. End of Story.

He closed his eyes with a sigh. There was a creeping pain in his back, growing stronger as the numbness started to subside. It’d be a while until he could go back to the way things were. Geoff would keep him off patrols long after Jack said he was fine. Or at least that’s how it had always worked with Michael and Jeremy. Part of him almost felt bad for siding with Geoff on that matter. _A taste of my own medicine._

Chuckling, he nestled into the pillows, working up the resolve to face waking Geoff. A loud humming noise made him pause. There was no one else there, not that he could see at any rate. He scanned the room. Nope, just Geoff, snoring as he slept. But the humming continued, filling his whole head until he brought his hands to cover his ears. It didn’t stop.

He had one hand moving to shake Geoff when he heard it. There was no good way to describe the voice that spoke. It was neither female nor male, and was deafening at the same time as it was barely a whisper. It was ageless and it absolutely filled Ryan’s head.

“Welcome back, Human. I was beginning to think we had failed. It seems, however, you’ve gone and done it. Congratulations.”

As he stared at nothing, he recalled fuzzy memories. A darkness, a nothingness. A visitor. A desperate deal. An answer to a question posed. A Promise.

…

“What if I told you that you didn’t have to die today?”

“Will anyone get hurt? I’m not doing anything that puts that at risk.”

“No harm will come to them, this I swear to you.”

“You’ve got a deal.”

…

And he started to laugh, high and hysterical, because it’d seemed impossible at the time. But now? Now he had a dragon’s soul merged with his, keeping him alive in return for god knows what.

God he was fucked.


	4. Chapter 4

He could handle the mothering for exactly one week before he was ready to pull his hair out. Everyone wanted to help, which was sweet, it really was. But at some point he just wanted a minute to himself. And he wanted everyone to stop poking and prodding. And he wanted people to stop asking if he was okay. He was fine dammit, could they just give him a second to breathe?

And it wasn’t even just Jack or Geoff or the lads. It had to be-

“You need rest, Human.”

-The damn dragon. For whatever reason, the creature just never shut up. It was constantly reminding him to eat or to stretch or-

“You forget where you are. Rest, before you weaken us.”

Ryan buried his face in his hands. Swallowing down the hysterical laughter that seemed to bubble up constantly. It felt like a dream, a weird fucked-up dream. But it wasn’t, was it? Not with all the humming and the constant lecturing and the smell of torches around the camp. Why the hell could he smell those when they were all the way across the yard? He let go a shaky breath, wiped at his face, and looked up.

He could hear Gavin laughing, muffled through the walls, and Michael yelling right alongside him. There was no heat or anger behind it, just fondness. And there was Jeremy snoring softly in the room next to him, exhausted after taking the night watch. Geoff and Jack were faint, far off but if he strained he could hear them walking along the very edge of camp.

And it was too much. He shouldn’t be able to follow along like this. God, he ought to be isolated in that room. There was no reason he should be able to hear them, smell them, and god forbid he stick his tongue out because he swore he could taste them in the air.

“You are working yourself up. You must calm yourself.”

That was enough. Ryan threw off his blanket and pulled on his boots instead. No way in hell was he going to stay inside and get lectured by a dragon he was doing his goddamn best to pretend wasn’t there. And he was fine! Jack had said himself that he was healing up fast, so that meant it was totally okay to get up and walk around. Hell, it was probably the best things to do.

And god, was stepping outside the best damn things he’d ever felt. The sun was warm on his skin, the air clean and fresh, and he stood there for a long moment just eating it up. He could still hear Michael and Gavin a little ways off, somewhere behind the cabin. If he played his cards right and kept an ear out for the others, he’d be able to sneak off on a short, solitary walk. Part of him debated going back inside for a bow or his sword. While it was still midday, the forest could get dark enough for an occasional mob to venture out of its hiding spot. The thought of his little room made his stomach twist though. It’d been too long with too little to do. Chancing it, he quickly wandered into the woods surrounding the humble house.

Really, it was an old hunting cabin they’d stumbled across, big enough to house them all if they doubled up in the rooms and two people were cool with crashing in the living area. And it had been fine before, when spirits were high and anticipation ran strong. But, since returning, Ryan had been left alone to recover. He wondered if the lads had taken over the room next door. At night, he could hear then snickering softly, and it always made him smile. Inevitably, Jack would come in and shush them, remind them that Ryan was trying to rest on the other side of the wall.

Granted, he hadn’t done much resting lately. He needed to, god did he know it. There was little wonder why Jack was concerned, what with how pale he looked recently or how dark the circles under his eyes were. But sleeping meant dreaming, and those weren’t necessarily the best for him right then.

“You’ll crash. You cannot keep us weak forever.”

He shook his head and kept walking, following a hunting trail through the trees. Around him, he could smell all kinds of forest life scurrying about. Birds called to one another above him, and somewhere a rabbit had stumbled across a snack and was munching away happily. Distantly, he heard footsteps, and steered away. It was probably just one of the guys, but he wasn’t ready to go in just yet. _A little longer_ , he told himself, _a few more moments of peace_.

The world around him was sharp and clear in a strange way. It felt alien. The greens were too vibrant and the sky had too many hues. He didn’t even think all the colors he saw had names. It made him feel out of place, far away from home with no hope of seeing it again.

But the sun was warm and familiar, and the leaves underfoot crackled when he walked. Tree bark still felt like bark, stones like stones, and he was sure he could adapt to everything as long as the guys were around to ground him. _Once we’re back in Achievement City, things will be fine. I’ll be fine._

Suddenly, something whizzed by his ear. Spinning on his heels, he locked eyes with the empty sockets of a skeleton archer. The reanimated corpse had its bow raised, hand still hovering from the follow through. For a tense moment, neither moved, staring each other down, before the creature swiftly drew another arrow from the quiver on its back and fired again.

Ryan hit the deck, twigs and rocks biting harshly into the skin on his palms. The arrow flew straight through where his neck had been, and he heard the bones rattle as they moved. Quickly, he rolled to his feet and dashed into the woods. He tried listening to see if it was following, but everything else- his footsteps, his breathing, his heart beating in his chest- was too loud. So he kept going, cursing his stupid decision to leave his weapons at home. Granted, he was in no condition for an all-out brawl anyways. Even just running was pulling at the tender skin on his back, and he was sure something had torn open back there. No matter how quickly Jack had said he was healing, it had only been just over a week. He was nowhere near one-hundred percent.

With a jolt, his foot caught on something and he tumbled forward, a tangle of limbs on the forest floor. He rolled quickly, gasping as an arrow embedded itself in the hard ground by his head. The skeleton had caught up, moving quickly to stand above him. Its next arrow was trained on his head and he braced himself for another quick escape. Jack was really going to tear him a new one when he got back, he thought darkly.

In a flash though, the skeleton was knocked aside, the bow falling from its rough hands. And Ryan nearly cheered until he met eyes with the Endermen. While the skeleton had only been his height, the Endermen seemed to stand well over six feet, maybe nearly seven. Long arms dangled by its side, stretch beyond what a man’s should look like. Granted everything about the monster was long, thin, spindly, with skin darker than night and purple eyes glowing wildly.

The Endermen reached out, grabbing the skeleton with a clawed hand, and squeezed its skull. The skeleton wailed, twisting and turning, scrambling and desperate for purchase. But the Endermen didn’t hesitate and the old bones crushes easily, bone shards littering the ground. The rest of the body followed, whatever magic that kept it together dissipating, until just a pile of dirty, broken bones remained.

Ryan stared, knowing full well he was screwed. They could teleport, often to avoid taking damage and to attack from behind, but only when they weren’t being watched. So long as he kept his eyes on it, it couldn’t warp away. That didn’t stop the claws or the literal bone-crushing strength they evidently possessed.

In the corners of his vision, he saw two more black shapes appear. The three creatures grouped together, hissing to each other, paying little heed to the defenseless human on the floor before them. Each of the two new ones held dirt in between their hands, suspended by some magic. He’d heard of them collecting resources before, taking dirt and stone and jewels, hoarding them for some strange purpose in the End.

It was almost amusing to watch the original Endermen squat down, dig up a pile of dirt and grass, and hold it happily out to the others. They all seemed to hum happily. Finally, they turned to Ryan, who scooted back until his back hit a tree. He winced, aware that he’d definitely torn something open and his back was slowly becoming a sticky mess.

They spoke to him, voices thickly accented and garbled, but he was startled to find actual words. Most he couldn’t make out, but a few stood out. Something sounded like gift, and mercy, and then there was just a stretch of incomprehensible hissing. Ryan’s eyes were wide as finally one took a step forward, head bowed low, and seemed to almost reverently whisper “majesty.”

Its clawed hands moved forward, holding out the floating earth. Instinctively, Ryan flinched back, hands scrambling about his waist for the sword he’d left behind. He wasn’t going to live that one down. If the creature had noticed his reaction, it hid it well, just continued to offer up the dirt it’d collected. Ryan stared it down, eyes hard as they locked onto the blank purple of the Endermen’s. He could hear the dragon chuckling inside his head before the Endermen spoke again.

“…Offering…blessing…majesty.” It was incessant, nearly shoving the orb hovering between them. And when Ryan still made no move to rake it, the creature promptly dropped it on his lap before warping away.

“Oh come on!” Ryan swore as he wiped it away, prompting the dragon to let out a pleased hum. Scowling, Ryan watched the other two Endermen. “What, you gonna drop your shit on me too?”

The two monster hissed happily, practically jumping to deposit their goods on his lap as well. Like the first, they warped away, leaving Ryan frowning at where they used to be. Swearing quietly, he braced himself against the tree as he stood up. Everything tumbled and he lurched forward, knees scraping as they hit the ground and he gently moved back to sitting.

“You have weakened considerably. Perhaps you should rest.” If it were possible, the dragon sounded smug and it took all Ryan had not to snap back. “I suppose we shall have to wait here until we have recovered or one of your kind finds us.”

“Fuck you. I’m fine,” Ryan huffed, leaning his head back against the tree.

“So he does listen!” The dragon hummed. “I was concerned that perhaps you could not hear me as I hear you. Evidently, you simply lack manners.”

“Again, fuck you.”

He took a steadying breath, preparing for the long walk back. No way in hell was he going to stay out with mobs milling about not with no one knowing where he’d gone off to. There was already an intense lecture waiting for him when he got back, and he optimistically thought maybe he’d listen this time. Lord knows it was gonna be a millions times worse if someone had to rescue him.

The Endermen were back, hovering around him again. Two had handfuls of small stones which they dumped on Ryan without hesitation. They stuck around though, almost vibrating with delight. He caught a few more stray words- gift, green, please- and watched the third one walk up to him. Floating between its too-long hands were emeralds, small and green and shining despite the low light of the forest. Ryan eyes them, feeling peculiar, as though he were shifting in his seat. The dragon was nearly purring, and he realized with a snort that he was feeling the dragon’s restlessness.

This time, Ryan reached out and let the Endermen drop the gems directly into his hands. They were lighter than he thought they would be, but then again he didn’t spend a lot of time dealing with gems. Stone and sand and the like he knew like the back of his hand though. He turned them over, watched how the light danced off the rough edges. Pulling them close, he cradled them against his chest as if they were the most precious thing in the world.

The Endermen hovered around, watching Ryan with those empty eyes of theirs. He opened his mouth to talk, unsure of what to say but he felt a tad awkward with all the attention on him. But he couldn’t find the words, or make anything come out really. His mouth moved on its own, but the voice that came out was certainly not his. It was too much and too little and distinctly draconic.

“I am pleased with your gift.” Ryan felt the words, and a hand came up to rest on his throat. When he tried to speak again, nothing happened. The dragon laughed and Ryan hated that he could feel it reverberate through his own chest.

“You’ll have your voice back in a moment. Let me enjoy this small freedom.” It hummed, filling the space around them rather than his own head.

“Fuck you!” His words flooded his mind and he physically recoiled.

“Language please. There really is no need for such profanities.”

The Endermen buzzed with energy warping back and forth to shower Ryan (or more specifically, the dragon) with gifts. It was mostly dirt and stones, though one did drop a fistful of sand on the pile. Ryan’s lap was absolutely covered, no matter how much he shifted. For a little bit, he pushed everything around one-handed, the other still clutching the emeralds tight.

It lasted a good five minutes until Ryan heard something bounding towards them. It smelled familiar, and the dragon hissed out loud, startling the Endermen. They warped away just as Michael burst forth from the underbrush, sword raised for battle. He was breathing hard, eyes scanning quickly for any lingering threats, before he looked down at Ryan. There was a moment of concern before he took in the whole scene. Ryan sitting with a lapful of dirt, small piles of stone and sand on either side, and the most bewildered face. Michael nearly fell back laughing too hard.

“Alright, it isn’t that funny,” Ryan huffed, although he did little to hide his smile. His throat ticked, and he had to cough a few times to clear it. At least he could talk again.

Michael bent down next to him, trying his best to look serious again. He winced at the coughing and tentatively placed a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb.

“Dude, what the fuck happened? What the hell are you doing out here?”

Ryan shrugged, wincing as it shifted his back against the tree. “You know, things happen. One minute I’m taking a walk and the next I’ve got a lap full of shit. Doesn’t it happen to you?” He smiled up at Michael, trying to hide how tired he was feeling.

Michael chuckled. “What the hell does that even mean?” Ryan shrugged again, pushing himself up to his feet. The lad held onto his arm as he swayed slightly. “Alright, take it easy. Let’s get you home.”

“Jack’s pissed, isn’t he?”

“What do you think? He and Geoff got back from patrolling and you’re just gone. You’re supposed to be on bed rest.”

“And you’re supposed to be taking it easy too. Running around, swinging that sword doesn’t seem light, does it?”

Michael frowned. “Dude, we’ve been seeing Endermen out all day, emphasis on the day part. It’s dark and all out here, but they shouldn’t be moving as freely as they are. We were worried one might have gotten you.”

Fondly, Ryan smiled at the lad. “I’m fine, really. Still in one piece.”

“Uh, you sure about that? You’re kinda bleeding through your shirt there,” Michael snorted, lightly shoving Ryan. Still, he shrugged the Gent’s arm over his shoulder, slipping his own arm around his waist to support his weight. Ryan wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was grateful for the help. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could realistically stay on his feet. “And just wait ‘till Jack gets you.”

Ryan sighed. “I’m not getting out of this one too easily, am I?”

“Next time, just fucking tell me and I’ll take you on a walk or something. I’ve been laid up enough times to know how bad everyone else can get. Just like, let me help you.”

Ryan smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind, Michael. Thank you.”

…

It was dark by the time Jack was done with Ryan, leaving him bundled up in the bed with a standing threat to post a guard at his door if he pulled another stunt like that again. For his part, Ryan stayed quiet, letting the medic give him a once over and taking the chastisement for all the new injuries that needed treated. And, of course, everyone else had to pop in as well and check up on him. By the time he was finally alone, he’d received more lectured then he’s had since he was a kid.

“You all care a great deal about each other, it seems,” the dragon spoke after a while. “I don’t understand it.”

Ryan shifted in the bed, reaching under his pillow to touch the emeralds he’d stashed there earlier. Comforted that they were still there, he sighed. “I don’t really understand it either. I don’t think I ever really will.”

“They’re awful people. All you humans are.”

“They’re family,” Ryan said plainly.

“Is that enough to warrant such compassion?”

“More than you could ever know.”


	5. Chapter 5

Gavin pressed himself into the corner of the room, hunching his shoulders in an attempt to make himself smaller. If Geoff was in a bad mood- and he was- then Ryan was downright furious. He was squared up to Geoff, arms folded and eyes hard, towering over him. He didn’t do it often, or at least not purposefully, but Ryan could be downright terrifying when he was set on getting through someone. And right then, the man wanted nothing more than to leave.

“I’m not saying you can’t go out Ryan. I’m saying you can’t go by yourself.” Geoff crossed his arms too, blue-grey eyes locking onto Ryan’s. He’d put his foot down, and Gavin respected that. It’d only been a few days since Ryan’s last excursion, and after the state Michael had found him in, everyone was concerned. So when Geoff had poised the idea of having someone with him at all times, everyone agreed. Gavin just wished he hadn’t drawn the short straw and gone first.

“I’m sure Gavin has better things to do then babysit all day. Don’t you need him for patrols or something?”

“We’re not exactly busy here. I think I can spare him for an hour or two so your whiny-ass can take a walk. So stop being such a baby and just take him with you.” Geoff threw his hands out wildly, nearly smacking Ryan in the face. The younger of the two gents knocked the hand away and Geoff sighed. It wasn’t easy dealing with someone as stubborn as Ryan, and Gavin should know; he dealt with Michael nearly every day.

The older man swept out of the room, letting the door bang close behind him. Gavin picked at his fingernails, trying to stare at Ryan as he seethed. He swore under his breath and stomped over to the bed. For a second, Gavin thought he might have given up on the idea of a walk and relegated himself to bed for more rest. Instead, he reached over and tugged his boots closer, shoving them on quickly. He looked suddenly over to Gavin, and the lad nearly jumped out of his skin.

Ryan’s eyes were dark, almost indigo, and his expression was cold. He was very nearly hostile, rising to his full height. The lad pressed further into the corner, panic starting to rise in his throat, and he nearly called for Geoff to come back. But Ryan shook himself, and anything terrifying melted away. His whole body relaxed, and the scowl dropped from his face completely. For a moment, he looked confused, then apologetic. Taking a couple steps back, he gestured vaguely to the door.

“I’m just gonna,” he seemed to fumbled or the right words. “Walk. You, uh, you don’t have to come.”

Gavin blinked, took a deep breath and steadied himself. “But Geoff said-“

“I’ll tell him I ditched you or something. I know you don’t really wanna spend time with me anyways, so you can go mess with Michael or Jeremy, or whatever you’ve been doing. I’m probably gonna just find some place nice to sit for a while. Getting kind of stir crazy in here.”

The lad flinched again when Ryan moved, but the gent got no closer, simply taking his sword from next to the bed. He seemed relieved to finally clip it around his waist, giving it a good little pat before walking out. There was a part of Gavin that was relieved that he’d been given an out. Sudden hostility notwithstanding, Ryan was still hard to be around. He was quite, almost resigned, and more then once the others caught him staring off into nothing. Granted, he’d been through something no one else really had yet, and it was hard to imagine what was going on in his head all the time. Whatever the case might have been, it was pretty clear he was itching to be alone.

But, the other part of Gavin told him he should stick around. After all, he hadn’t really visited much aside from a couple minutes with someone else. Maybe that’s why he felt so strange around him. The others had more time to adjust to Ryan’s recovery and where he was in all that. Gavin was standing in the back of the room, eyes and ears closed and vehemently trying to convince himself everything was okay. It wasn’t though, and eventually he’d have to confront that. Something had changed so indescribably in his friend and there wasn’t any amount of denial great enough to hide from it. that only left one option; accept it. He could accept that Ryan was different, that the good old days were changing and gone, but that didn’t mean they were going to be bad.

Besides, no matter what Jeremy had said, this was all his fault, wasn’t it? He ought to lay in the bed he’d made.

Steeling himself, he followed Ryan out the door. Whether or not the other man heard him, he couldn’t tell. Ryan just kept walking, head down, into the woods. There was a drop off somewhere beyond the trees. They’d spent some time gathering materials in the ravine on the trip up there, and Gavin vaguely recalled someone saying the view was nice. He’d been too busy elsewhere to really take a look, so when they broke through the tree line, he gasped.

It was wide open, blue skies stretching on and on, unbroken and expansive. In the distance, snow-tipped mountains reached their way upwards, leaving the ground far below. And the ravine itself was deep, the other side just out of jumping range. Below them, a river bubbled, carving a path through the rough rocks.

Evidently, the forest ended on their side, and it was almost a completely different biome across from them. Soft hills rolled on and on, covered by lush green grass and bright wildflowers. The lad would have gladly leapt across to lay down in the warm sun, forgetting all his worries and the long days ahead of him. Nothing, he was certain, would have been able to move him.

Ryan chuckled as he sat down on the edge, long legs dangling off the edge. He looked over his shoulder, eyes bright and blue and full for the first time in a long time. There was a smile, wild and free, and Gavin could have sworn he was a different person then the man in the cabin had been. And he smiled back, because he had too. There wasn’t any chaos like they were used to, no thrill or adventure, but Ryan was grinning like it was the most fun he’d ever had.

He dragged himself over and plopped down next to the gent, letting their shoulders knock together. “You’re all smiley Ryan.”

“Sun’s nice. It’s been, what, like two weeks now? Minus getting lost in the woods, this is the first time I’ve been out of that damn bedroom.” He shrugged, eyes watching the clouds drifting past. “’sides, the view’s nice.”

Gavin nodded, thinking that the next cloud floating over kind of looked like a bunny. And yeah, the sun was warm, and the breeze cool, and the wide open sky was tempting. But Ryan looked at it like he was starving and someone had just given him the biggest dinner. But then, it made it hard to ignore how pale Ryan looked, how worn out and defeated he looked back at camp. Gavin looked away, guilt twisting his stomach and stopping the breath in his throat.

Ryan hummed, content, next to him and it made Gavin’s heart ache. “Ryan, how are you so okay with this, Ryan?”     

“Okay with what?”        

“Dying. You died and you’re acting like it wasn’t a big deal.”          

The other man sighed and leant back to rest on his hands. “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? I can’t just be okay. There has to be a catch, right?” He looked suddenly very serious, eyes brows furrowed and frowning. “There’s always a catch.”          

“I wouldn’t be okay, not if it had been me instead.”          

“I’m not you.”         

The lad bit his lip. “It should have been me,” he whispered.          

“I’m glad it wasn’t. Out of everyone, I think it had to be me.” When Gavin didn’t respond, he continued. “Michael needs you, so does Jeremy. God knows Geoff needs you and Jack.”          

Gavin scoffed and brought his knees close to his chest, hugging them tightly. “I think I need them more than they need me.” 

“We all need you. Michael especially. You’ve got boiship, or whatever you’re calling it these days.” Ryan paused, took a deep breath, and laid down in the dirt. “Everyone needs each other so damn much Gavin. I can’t even begin to explain it.”         

The lad was quiet a moment, watching the wildflowers dance in the wind. He didn’t feel needed, not really. Wanted, yes, that couldn’t be denied. He fell in place so perfectly with the others, and more often than not went to bed with a smile on his face. But he was slow, sloppy, clumsy. After all, hadn’t he been the one to stumble, to stay in the line of fire? And hadn’t he needed someone else to save him?         

“Wanna know something kinda dumb?” Ryan asked out of the blue, tone casual. He didn’t look over at Gavin, kept his view on the sky overhead. “I remember dying. I remember everything really, though it’s all kinda fuzzy and jumbled. But I can tell you exactly how I felt.”          

Gavin blinked, wide-eyed and confused.          

“I remember,” he started,” you there. I don’t think you left, at least not while I was still awake. You held my hand, and you said I’d be ‘top in no time.’ And I should have been scared, right? Because that’s what normal people would feel. But I figured, if you were still there, then I’d be okay. As stupid as it sounds, I needed you right then, to make it easier.”          

There was a pregnant pause, and Gavin felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Ryan reached out, his hand resting a little awkwardly on Gavin’s back given the angle. “I thought you were gonna be gone forever.”         

“I’m not going anywhere Gav. You’re stuck with me.” He chuckled, that stupidly charming laugh from deep in his chest. Gavin could practically feel it through his touch, and it was grounding. Because he was here, and he was okay, and he was joking and smiling. And he wasn’t mad. It made Gavin smile softly, wiping away a few stray tears.         

“You’re really okay with everything?”         

He poked him. “I’m top now.” Gavin snorted. “Super top. The tip top topiest.” 

Gavin squirmed away from him, laughing. “Alright, you sausage, I get it.”         

“Okay good. So now that we’ve got all that sappy crap sorted out, can we go back to annoying each other? I almost miss the questions.”          

“Aw Ryan,” he cooed. “You miss me?”        

“I said almost.”          

“Lovely Ryan.” Ryan shoved him over playfully. “You can’t lie to me.”          

“I lie to you all the time. I could be lying right now for all you know.”          

“What? About Lying?” Ryan nodded. “No, that doesn’t make any sense. If you lie about lying, then you have to be telling the truth. It’s like a double negative.”          

“Nah,” he smiled. “It means I lied.”          

“But that’s not how it works!” Gavin squawked, and Ryan chuckled as the lad worked himself up. It made his heart warm, how natural it felt to egg the other on. Gavin had to admit, he missed it too. As long as Ryan was fine, everything could go back to the way they were before. Nothing had to be indescribably different after all, or at least he prayed that was the case.          

They lapsed into silence after that, staring out into the wild world. The sun was setting, bright oranges and red splashed across the landscape. Neither made any move to get up and head back, though Gavin was sure Geoff would be pissed at them for being gone for so long. But it’d been forever since he’d sat still and watched a sunset. There, seemingly at the edge of the world, he felt peaceful, connected to everything for the first time in a long time. And it was wonderful, to finally stop floating and choking and floundering. For just a moment, he felt like he could breathe.          

The two of them sat there long enough that small glowing stars blossomed across the world. He smiled, holding out a hand and pretending to hold a few in his fingers. Like summer nights as a child, he stared up in wonder, remembering stories his mother and father used to tell him. Strange tales, stories only he seemed to know. He leaned over, poking Ryan in the side. He sat up, running his fingers through messy hair. He looked half asleep and Gavin laughed.          

“Did you know,” he started, “that my mother used to say golems hung the stars? She said that humans were afraid of the dark. They’d hide by fires and in their houses and wouldn’t move. Every nights they’d cry out in fear, and it broke the heart of a friendly golem.” His voice had adapted a dramatic tone, like the storyteller from his town back home who’d tell anyone who’d listen about strange magic and demon deals. And Ryan watched him, rapt.

He continued. “They went to the others and pleaded. Surely there was something they could do to help. So they stayed together, and they thought about the gifts they had. Finally, they decided to take orbs of pure magic, and they spread out across the whole land. As soon as the sun set, they threw their magic into the sky. The golems found peace in the smiles of all the humans below them as they finally saw how beautiful the night was.”         

He was smiling wide, arms gesturing wide in exaggerated movements. “But it wasn’t quite enough, and some people were still too scared to come out. So they took at the raw magic they could find, and they hung it all together. That much magic tends to burn itself up though, and over time it faded out completely. So the golems just rebuilt it, because it made everyone so happy. It was worth all the cycles, constantly filling the moon, since everyone was just so happy. And they still do it, making sure the moon’s magic is replaced so no one gets left in the dark ever again.”         

Gavin watched Ryan stare at the stars, eyes bright, nearly glowing in the dark. He turned to the lad, relaxed and easy. _Like how it should be,_ Gavin thought. Ryan hummed, more a deep purring in his chest than anything else, before his brows furrowed in thought. “Do you think they planned constellations?”          

“What?”          

“Do you think they meant to make constellations? Or did they just kinda happen?” He pointed out a few: the Archer, the Knight, a pillar of five extraordinarily bright ones that made up the Tower. There were a few more Gavin didn’t catch, or couldn’t find in the big mess of the sky. But Ryan was able to pick them out immediately, tracing the shapes with his finger.          

“How do you know all this?”          

“My mom used to take me up on this little hill behind the house and point them out. She knew all kinds of stuff like that. Taught me how to make potions too.”          

“You don’t talk a lot about your family much.”          

Ryan shrugged, idly picking at the pebbles and stones around them. At some point he’d apparently collected a small pile of particularly pretty ones, setting them aside nicely. Gavin had even caught him once or twice sliding the prettiest ones inside his pocket. “There isn’t much to talk about. Besides, I’ve got you all now, so…” He trailed off. 

Suddenly, he turned around, looking at the dark woods behind them. Eyes narrowed, he scowled, that hostility from before back again. It took Gavin by surprise, the lad quickly leaping to his feet and grabbing up his bow. Ryan rose next to him, once again seeming to tower above him. And he was different in that moment, to the point where Gavin could have sworn he was someone else entirely.       

He had an arrow trained at the trailhead, ready for a fight. A figure poked around the trees, and Gavin moved to fire. He let the arrow go, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. The string snapped back, the arrow cutting through space, and the figure’s eyes grew wide. The world dropped, and Jeremy didn’t even have time to react.         

But Ryan did. Quick as lightning, his hand shot out and he wrapped his fingers around the missile. And he held tight enough that the hand-carved wood snapped in two. No one spoke. No one moved. No one even dared to take a breath. And then time kicked back into motion, and Gavin through the bow to the ground.          

“Christ Jeremy! I nearly shot you.”          

The other man didn’t respond, eyes glued to Ryan. The gent was staring at his own hand, still hanging in the air. He opened his fist, little bits of wood fluttering to the ground. It was like he was surprised at his own reaction.          

“Shit Ryan.” Jeremy’s voice was low, shock audible in the slight waiver of his words.         

Again, Ryan was silent, but his face fell and he glared at his own hand. Gavin reached out, fingertips brushing the other man’s arm. He startled, whipping around to look him in the eye. And then he seemed to relax, run a hand through his hair nervously, and smile shyly.          

“Close call, huh? Could have been messy.”          

“Rye, you just-“          

He cut Jeremy off. “We should probably not tell Geoff that you were nearly perforated. I’m guessing he’s already pissed, since it’s late and we haven’t come back yet. That’s why he sent you, right?”         

“Are we just gonna ignore the thing with the arrow?” Jeremy asked, a hand rubbing his shaved scalp.          

“Planning on it, yeah.” Ryan nodded and stalked off without another word. He almost looked nervous, and Gavin couldn’t quite figure out what the hell had just happened.         

“That was weird, right?” Gavin asked, and Jeremy nodded.          

“He’s okay, right?”          

“I thought so, but…” He trailed off, and Jeremy nodded again.          

“He’ll get there. Give him time.” He smiled then. “I’m sure this was good for him, until I ruined it.”          

Gavin nodded, and followed his friends into the dark.

…

“You can’t do that. You can’t just use me like that!” Ryan whispered harshly, too aware of the laughter next door. He locked eyes with himself in the mirror hung upon the wall, and startled himself when he saw them watering. It had been terrifying to suddenly have no control of his body, to be fine one minute and the next be flung back and left watching the world move around him. For just a moment, he got to see how things were going to be soon, and god was he scared.         

He watched his mouth move, the dragon’s voice strangely quiet. “He would have died had I not interceded. Your archer does not miss often.”          

“You can’t do that.” He spoke through their mouth, his pitch rising as he felt panic stick inside his chest.         

“Human-”        

“Don’t. You told me we had time. I have time. I’ve got-”          

“Human, calm yourself!” The dragon snapped, stealing their mouth back. “I do not intend to collect upon your debt yet. Simply, I was saving the life of one you hold dear.” He soften, nearly soothing in his tone. “Your body is yours, have no fear.”          

He stared at himself, watched as tears threatened to spill. He didn’t let them, scrubbing at his eyes until they past. He was worked up, frantic, and he wrapped his arms around himself tightly. Deep breaths, in and out, until he felt less like he was going to fall apart. He sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, watching his hands tremble slightly.         

The dragon was humming, not his usual sort of purr. It was softer, kinder, and as Ryan fell back against the blankets, he could have sworn he’d heard the tone somewhere before.         

“I will give you time,” the dragon soothed somewhere in his mind. “And I will keep my promise. No harm will come to those you love, not while I am able to prevent it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've officially surpassed the projected work count I originally set. This story was supposed to top out at 10,000 words. Obviously, that changed. The project got a little out of hand, and kept growing. But I'm happy with it so far, and I hope you guys are having a good time too! 
> 
> Something mildly terrifying though, is that I've got a gta story in the planning phase that's supposed to be a lot longer than this one, so I'm afraid to see what it grows into.


	6. Chapter 6

For the most part, talking to Endermen was rather one-sided. He didn’t know if it was his fault, if the creatures were hesitant to speak to a human. And he didn’t really know if they were capable of long complicated thought. Most of the time, all they wanted to talk about was dirt or stone or really any materials laying around. Evidently, they spent most of their time collecting bits of this, bits of that. They never answered when he asked why though. Maybe they didn’t really understand it themselves.              

The night air was still, like the whole world was holding its breath. Ryan sat back against the shed, eyes half-closed as he watched the creatures mill about. They were close, despite the torches set up around camp, although Ryan suspected they felt bolder knowing he was there. He kept an ear out for Jack who was on watch for the night. From where he sat by the fire, there was no easy way he could see Ryan. The shed was a little ways off from the main body of the cabin, and his side was nestled in the shadows. He’d even blown out the torches closest to him.              

Like before, the Endermen seemed particularly interested in bringing him gifts. There were a few more emeralds to add to his hoard, a couple of blue stones he was pretty sure were lapis, and quite a bit of dirt. This time he’d accepted everything they brought, setting it aside in neat little piles around him. They buzzed around happily each time he took the gifts from them, and he could help but smile.              

“Do you know why they’re doing this?” He asked quietly, and felt the dragon stir.              

“They’re looking for building materials to bring back to the End. They’re fascinated by it all.” The dragon hummed, Ryan feeling the vibrations in his throat. “I have many, many piles of dirt back home. But they enjoy it, so I allow it.”              

“Do they ever build anything?”              

“Occasionally. Once they built a small stone hut and one hid inside while the others moved about. I think they were playing human.”              

Ryan chuckled. “They sound like kids.”              

“In a way, they are. They’re curious creatures with simple pleasures. I protect them in the End, and they bring me treasures for my hoard.”             

Ryan watched one Endermen look up from where it was digging. It swiveled its head until it found him, and Ryan waved at it. Quickly, it let go of its orb to raise a long arm in response. It hissed happily, then seemed to realize it dropped its treasure. For the first time, he’d seen a monster look surprised, then turn away, bashful, as it bent down to retrieve what it had collected. The dragon hummed fondly.              

“Do human children play similarly?”              

“I did. I think lots of kids play monster.”              

“Were you the beast often?”              

“Nah. I was usually the hero.”              

The dragon was quiet a moment. “It fits you. Brave, strong, self-sacrificing. Though now it’s your turn to be the monster, isn’t it?”              

Ryan didn’t respond, shuffling a handful of gems around. An Endermen warped in next to him, it's strange mouth twisted up to resemble a smile. It held out an orb proudly, a few bright nuggets of gold floating freely. Absent-mindedly, Ryan accepted it, adding it to the pile he intended to bring inside with him. It hissed happily and Ryan smiled up at it.              

The dragon shifted uncomfortably. “That came out wrong. I intended for that to be a jest. We are not a monster.”              

“You’re like Gavin. Half the time his compliments are just nicer insults.” He paused. “We are sort of a monster though.”              

“Admittedly, we are a strange thing, yes. But monsters are unintelligent brute. We’re much more than that, aren’t we?” Ryan didn’t answer, so the dragon continued. “You are compassionate, a trait I did not expect to find in humans. And you are thoughtful. You think to your past and you make decisions based on your findings and experiences. And you are intelligent, which again, I did not think humans capable of.”              

“To be fair, I didn’t think you were any different. I didn’t even know you could think. I figured you were just a dumb lizard.”              

The dragon hummed. “It seems we were both incorrect. While this is not an ideal situation, I do not regret it. It is good to learn about another creature.”              

Ryan snorted. “Well, it’s not as bad as I thought it was gonna be. Not yet at least. Might change my mind when you intend to collect.”              

“It will not be for a while. Enjoy your time and do not fret about the future. We will reach something of an understanding at that time.”              

“You know, you’ve been awful civil about everything considering we murdered you.”              

The dragon paused, and Ryan shifted as they did. “It is not the first time humans have stolen into my home. I have long accepted that it is your nature to kill only for the sport of it. You few are just part of the many who have brought their swords down upon me.”              

“Why’d you save me though? Don’t you just respawn?”              

“I do. And in a way, I did. I just happened to respawn inside of you. I had no interest in hatching again, nor in remaining in the End. With you, I am free of that place finally. You forget that I owe you for taking me away from there.”              

“You don’t miss it at all?”             

“There isn’t much to miss. It was my home for centuries, but it grows dull and repetitive. Your world is so vast, by the children’s accounts, and it had proven lovely this far. I am excited to move again though. There is an ache in my heart for someplace else.”             

“Achievement City.” Ryan nodded, thinking of home. It’d been too long now without its familiar structures and the view of the sea. He missed his house, however small it was, and he missed the animals that seemed to unexpectedly gather around him. He missed the salty breeze on the soft sand beach and the gentle hills that surrounded them, like being cradled in the earth’s hands. And he missed the familiarity of it all, the sense of routine and normalcy.             

But he also missed the mountains and craggily rock, wide open skies to fly freely in. Part of him craved a dark cave, glittering with gold and jewels and treasures. There was a want to watch Endermen flickering in and out, bringing with them innumerable gifts to play with. Little rows of haphazard huts thrown together, nestled in a valley overseen by the highest mountain in the whole End.              

Two homes, and he couldn’t tell which he wanted more.

…

He went on patrol the next morning, trying to ignore the lingering tiredness. Staying up all night was, admittedly, a pretty dumb idea. But the Endermen had been so happy to see them, and his small hoard had more than doubled in size. It was going to be interesting trying to bring it all home, but the thought of leaving them behind made his heart ache.

Being out helped, more than just sitting out in the sun. He had his sword strapped to his side, and a bow slung over his shoulder on loan from Gavin, since he hadn’t exactly been able to replace the one lost in the End. He’d have to get a new one back in the city, or talk Gavin into making him one. The lad had an inexplicable talent at crafting bows, but it made sense. He was so damn picky about his weapons, it must have just been easier to make his own. That, or no good weapon smith could stand working with him. Ryan was inclined to believe the later, and with how the dragon hummed, they must have agreed.              

Granted, the dragon was coiled tightly in Ryan’s mind, sitting up anger and rage as often as they could. Though that may have been because Jeremy was idly chatting next to them, somehow explaining in painful detail how he’d once snapped his leg in two as a teen. Ryan was half-listening, focused more on keeping his composure. He could feel the dragon shift and roll and grumble.              

The anger wasn’t unfounded, or course. If memory served, Jeremy had stabbed out its eye in the battle, and very well could have been the one to land the final blow. That part of everything was still unclear. No one could give a clear account, having been too caught up in the moment. And Ryan was a tad busy himself, bleeding out and all that.              

Jeremy finished his story, and Ryan didn’t catch the last bit, a silence growing between them as he tried to think of something to say. The lad kept stealing glances over, and Ryan glanced around. He hated the dissonance, but the dragon was shuffling around, growing more and more restless and they walked.              

“So anyways,” Jeremy said after a minute, awkwardly rubbing his shaved head.              

“Sorry,’ Ryan spoke quickly. “I’m a little out of it today. Not the best company.”             

The lad nodded. “Couldn’t sleep?” Ryan shrugged in lieu of an actual answer. “We didn’t keep you up, did we? ‘Cause we were trying to be quiet, but Gavin said this stupid things and-”             

He chuckled. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I wasn’t even inside for most of the night.” Jeremy whipped his head around, glaring up at him. “Please, I’m not gonna get a babysitter to sit with me every time I can’t sleep or wanna watch the stars. You gonna rat me out?”              

“No, but when Geoff kills you, I’m not gonna say anything.” Ryan laughed again, and Jeremy beamed. “Dude, speaking of stars, Gavin said you know all the constellations.”             

“Can’t tell him anything, can I? What else did he tell you?”              

“He said your mom taught you them, and also that she knew how to make potions.”             

“She taught me a lot of things.” Ryan nodded. “I practically begged her to show me. So she taught me everything she knew. I kinda went a little overboard, but I didn’t want to stop.”             

She had been a good woman, determined not to let her craft fade out from the world. They’d spent hours pouring over various books and recipes, arguing over which steps were necessary and which ones could be skipped. Potion-making had come fairly easy, and once he’d learned the basics, he found it easy to combine ideas from one recipe with another. His journals were full of little changes he’d made, either to make them stronger or to streamline the whole process. A lot of his earlier experiments had failed, and he’s learned some valuable lessons about how certain ingredients intermingled. Eventually, he’d started really making progress, and more than once his mother had been impressed with her son’s talent and craftiness.              

“So how’d you end up an adventurer? Wouldn’t potion-making be a little safer or something?”              

Ryan thought for a moment. As a child, there were things he wished he could learn beyond what his family could teach him. He’d spent a good portion of time envious of the wealthier families and there endless libraries. He wanted to open every one of them, read and pick them apart and learn. He wanted to know how the world worked, how to fix wounds and slay beasts and be a hero like in all his stories.              

Likewise, he’d wished he could know how to fight with a sword like a real warrior. He’d seen blades before, when the blacksmith forged them for the local guardsmen. And he’d even held one, when the boy had finally worn the man down with his begging. It was heavier then he’d expected and he couldn’t lift the point from the ground. But even just holding tightly to the hilt made him feel strong and proud. As a child, he’d dreamt that maybe one day he could join the town guard and have a blade of his own.              

More than anything, Ryan wanted to know what laid beyond his sleepy little town. He wanted to see the big cities he’d heard about from travelers. He wanted to catch a glimpse of the vast blue ocean, to see if the water was really as salty as people claimed it was. He wanted to explore the forests that allegedly spanned miles and miles in every direction. If he could have had one wish, he’d have used it so see something fantastic and to be right in the middle of the incredible.             

“Wish Fulfillment,” Ryan said with a smile. “Besides, I never really wanted to make potions for a living. This is more fun. And I got you guys, so I’d say this was the best thing that could have happened to me.”              

Jeremy felt his cheeks flush at the sudden sentiment. He coughed, then spoke, a little unsure of himself. “Me too, uh, about being happy you’re here. And…” He trailed off, mouth twisting while he struggled for words.             

“Are you happy? Here, with us?” Ryan asked, smiling gentle at the lad.             

“I’d always wanted to be an adventurer. And I looked up to you guys before I joined.”             

“Yeah, but are you happy?”              

The lad looked up, brown eyes determined. “More than I’ve even been.”              

Ryan gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. “I’m happy to hear that. We’re better off with you. It’s been fun.”              

Jeremy shoved him lightly. “You sound like you’re saying bye.” He paused, stopped walking and just stared up at Ryan. “You’re not saying goodbye, are you?”             

Ryan smiled, and Jeremy almost thought he looks sad. For a moment he held his breath. “No, definitely not. I’m not ready for that yet.”             

It was a little tense after that, the two of them walking silently. The woods around them broke, and they trailed along the ravine. They were further down, the drop not so drastic and the water not as quick. Still, the hills sat peacefully on the other side, and Ryan though how nice it’d be to asleep in the grass. Before he could really dwell on the thought though, there was a shout, and then Jeremy disappeared from view. 

Ryan’s heart jumped to his throat as he scrambled to the edge, trying to catch a glimpse of the lad. But the ground shifted under him, and he jumped back just as it crumbled and fell away. Even as his body panicked, he forced himself to take a deep breath and listen. He heard every bump as Jeremy landed against the rocks, and he winced each time. Finally, he heard a loud gasp, and nothing else.

_He’s dead, or in the water, or dead in the water_ , Ryan’s mind helpfully supplied, but he forced those thoughts away. He needed to focus, not freak out. There’d be time for that later. _Deep breath in, deep breath out._  

He hadn’t heard a splash, so ideally Jeremy hadn’t hit the water. That meant he was probably caught on a ledge somewhere, and Ryan just needed to get down to him. That was easier said than done, since there wasn’t anything to climb down with, and he didn’t want to waste time getting the others if Jeremy was serious hurt. And since he couldn’t heard him, he had to assume he was.

“Alright, we need to get down there.” Ryan said decisively, even as he struggled to come up with a viable plan. 

“And how do you plan on achieving that?” 

Ryan shrugged, reaching out with his foot to test out the ground. Another chunk broke off and fell, tumbling until he heard it splash down in the water. From what he could see, the walls of the ravine were sloped, albeit steeply. It’d be difficult, but if he could control his speed and hold on tight enough, he might be able to climb down to him. 

“This is a terrible plan.” The dragon deadpanned. 

“Do you have a better one? Because I’m open to suggestions.” Ryan snapped back, starting to remove his sword and bow. They’d only get in the way. 

The dragon hummed. “I may have a way, but it will require temporary control, at least partially.” Ryan hesitated, looking down at his hands and back to the cliff. “Trust me Human, I will give it back, I swear to you. But the Wild One will not last long down there if he is injured.” 

He was. Ryan could smell the blood, warm and metallic, and when he flicked out his tongue, the air was heavy with it. No time, he told himself as he took a deep breath. 

“I trust you.”                                                                                 

And as he said those words, he was slammed back. He watched his body move without him, just like it had when the dragon had stopped Gavin’s arrow from hitting Jeremy. Except he didn’t panic, or fight it, or scream helplessly inside his own head. The dragon stretched their long arms high above their head, a wicked smile on their face and they braced themselves.           

Pain ripped up his arms, from fingertip to above his elbow, a burning ache stretching up and up. Before his eyes, his skin grew dark and darker, like an Endermen. And then it hardened and cracked until it looked like small scales running up his forearms. Pink nails grew long and sharp and thick. They hooked slightly at the ends, catching the light like shards of obsidian on the ends of his fingers.           

“I was unsure if they would manifest properly,” the dragon hummed, their voice rumbling in Ryan’s chest and throat. They gazed down their arms, running a hand appreciatively over the scales. They were surprisingly smooth on the uncovered pads of his hands. “They will serve your purpose well.”          

And he was yanked forward, slamming back into his own and shuddering at the sudden change. But he didn’t hesitate, and he didn’t think before he slipped off the edge. Despite the slope, he struggled to stay on his feet, leaning back to dig his claws into the cliff-face. The sudden pull hurt, and he grit his teeth against it. Long trails were carved behind him, but he’d slowed down enough to control his descent.          

Jeremy had landed on small outcropping, leaving barely enough room from Ryan as his feet hit the ledge first. Claws ripped out of the stone as he stumbled, and he had to throw his hands out to catch himself from slipping completely off. He stared down at the rushing water for a breath, before pulling back with a hiss. His hands hurt, and he dreaded to see the damage done when he shifted back.          

The lad still hadn’t moved, and Ryan could see a small pool of blood under his head.

Quickly, he knelt over him, sliding hands on either side of his face. Up close, the smell of blood was awful, and he felt choked by it. Breathing through his mouth only made it worse. God he could taste it.          

But he was breathing, Jeremy’s chest rising and falling in jerky little gasps. Carefully, Ryan moved his head, looking for the damage. There was a thick cut across his forehead, just above his left eyebrow, steadily oozing blood down his face. Immediately, he reached down and tore off a piece of his shirt, holding it against the wound. Jeremy jerked back, but his eyes stayed closed. There’d be time to properly patch the wound when they got back, but until then, he at least could slow the bleed.

Getting down had been easy, but getting back up? He’d have to carry Jeremy, which meant one hand would basically be tied behind his back. He let Jeremy go, lying his head back gently. He groaned, frowning, but didn’t wake fully. Ryan touched his shoulder softy before pulling back. He stared up at the wall before him, one hand held tight to his chest as he dug his claws in and started to climb. He only made it a little ways before his boot slipped, and he skated down on his claws again. He growled when he landed, cradling his hand. One of the claws had a small break at the tip, and was tender to the touch. A few more tries resulted in the same thing. While his hand could dig into the cliff face, his boots kept losing traction and pulling him back down.              

Frustrated, he racked his claws through his hair, turning back to Jeremy. The bleeding had slowed, then eventually stopped altogether, at least for a little while. His eyes were skewed shut, as if in pain. Leaning forward, Ryan took the lad’s hand in his. His skin looked so pale against the dark scales, and he rubbed a claw against him absentmindedly.             

“He needs aid.” The dragon hummed quietly.              

“I can’t climb out.” Ryan watched the rise and fall of his friend’s chest. “I didn’t really think this through too well.”              

“You never do.”              

Ryan bounced his leg. It was almost midday, and they were due back at camp soon. Someone would come looking for them, would find them stuck, would help them. They could try to wait it out, but the fact that Jeremy wasn’t waking up concerned him. _Better if we could get back sooner_ , he though. If he had more grip, he could-              

“Dumb idea.” Ryan sat up straight, the dragon stirring curiously. “We did claws on my hands, right? Can we do them on my feet too? Because if we can, I can get a better hold on this stupid cliff and probably climb out.”              

The dragon pondered this a moment. “I don’t see why not. I will need control again.”              

Again, Ryan didn’t hesitate, kicking off his boots and sitting back as the dragon took over. For a few tense moments, there was nothing, and then the burning started. And it was worse the second time, but that was perhaps because the transformation was more severe. The skin again hardened and cracked into scales, the obsidian black disappearing up his legs. The worst part, however, was the shifting of bone as his body reshaped itself. His feet stretched and changed until they looked more like dragon feet then his own.              

He’d sunk his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from screaming, digging hard enough to taste blood. His breathing came in small, strained huffs and the dragon slipped back. Ryan curled in on himself. It was too warm suddenly, and he felt shaken. Everything swam around him and he braced himself against the ground. For a moment, he teetered in the edge of consciousness, fighting off a wave of nausea. Too much, too soon.              

“We need to move. We cannot sustain these changes for too much longer.” The dragon sounded strained, and Ryan nodded as he swallowed. He pushed as much of his discomfort away, though when he stood he thought he might pass out. Jeremy first.             

It was difficult to get Jeremy settles on his back, in a makeshift sort of fireman’s carry. While he was short, the lad was dense with muscle and Ryan struggled. Maybe if he didn’t feel like he was made of jelly, it would have been easier. Eventually, he got him settled, one hand gripped tight to him, and the lad groaned. It wasn’t ideal, and it certainly wouldn’t be comfortable for Jeremy, but it’d work enough to get them out.              

He dug his free hand in and pulled up, hooking his lower claws into the wall. And it was so much easier this way. Every tug pulled on his claws, and everything burned from the strain of it all, but he was making progress finally. By the end, his legs were shaking as he pushed forward, and his chest ached as he gasped for air.              

But then he felt grass, and with one finally push, they were back on the surface. He fell forward, Jeremy landing mostly on top of him. His back was killing him, and he figured that maybe two weeks post-injury wasn’t enough to time to warrant rock-climbing. A bubble of hysterical laughter rushed forward and he buried his face in the grass. It took a while to compose himself, and he was gasping badly at the end. His limbs tingled, and when he glanced back he saw familiar pink skin and short broken nails.             

“I can’t believe that worked.”             

The dragon hummed and shifted. “Congratulate yourself later. You still have to carry him home.”              

Ryan groaned, and dragged himself to his sore, bare feet.

…              

They were two hours late and Geoff was ready to pull out his hair. He’d already sent Michael and Gavin out to looks for them, and Jack was getting ready to leave too. The oldest gent was already thinking of worst-case scenarios. A skeleton shot one of them, or a creeper explosion, or something. Or Ryan really wasn’t ready to get back into the swing of things, and he’d be dragged back to camp just like the time before. Or Jeremy had miscalculated a stunt and ended up injured, or-              

“Hey asshole!” Michael shouted and Geoff snapped his head up. “Come give me a hand with this.”              

Jeremy was hung between Ryan and Michael, his brown eyes hanging half-open and hazy. There was a nasty gash on his face and too much drying blood. And Ryan looked exhausted, shaking as Jack ran up and took Jeremy from him. He sagged in relief, nearly folding in on himself. But he smiled at whatever Jack said, and made his way over to Geoff when the others waved him off.              

“What the hell happened?” Geoff demanded.              

Ryan shrugged. “Part of the ravine broke under Lil J. He hit a ledge before he could hit the water. I went down after him.”              

“You fell off a cliff?”              

“Nah, climbed down. Hauled him back up too.”              

“How?”             

Ryan shrugged again, but didn’t offer any more explanations. Geoff gave him a once over, noticing the dirt caked around his fingertips, the skin raw and red and bleeding slightly. And his pants were torn, revealing scraped knees. Perhaps the strangest is when he glanced down at his feet. They were dirt covered too, bleeding and torn and he shifted uncomfortably.              

“Hey Rye? Where are your shoes?”              

He looked down, mouth twisting and brows furrowing. It was like he’d just realized they weren’t there anymore. “I don’t have a good answer for that.” Geoff set him with a glare that clearly showed he was in no mood for bullshit. Ryan squirmed. “At the bottom of the ravine, the ledge where I got Jeremy. I ditched them to climb back up. Look, can I explain all this later? It’s been a long day and I don’t think I’m gonna stay standing for much longer.”              

The older man sighed. “Alright, but I wanna know everything that happened when you get up. No bullshit, got me?”              

Ryan hummed, a strange tuneless sounds, and Geoff frowned. He patted the younger gent on the shoulder, steering him towards the cabin. In a little while, someone would have to go and wake him up to fix up all the scrapes and bruises, but for the time being he was fine to sleep. After all, Geoff had another injured party member to attend to. It’s what Ryan would want, Geoff knew, to take care of himself. Asshole.

…              

Ryan sat heavily on the edge of the bed, staring at himself in the mirror. His eyes were dark, almost indigo, and he smiled.              

“I wanna do more.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy this one was a struggle to write. I redid the rescue scene about five times before I was finally happy with it. But still within my self-imposed ten day upload window.   
> Also, I'm sorry. These just get longer and longer each time. Chapter 10 is gonna be a nightmare at this rate.


	7. Chapter 7

Jeremy was fine. He was wrapped up in the bed still, but that was mostly just because Jack wouldn’t let him up quite yet. “One more day,” was the promise made, but that was two nights ago and he was starting to get antsy. The other lads had spent a good deal of time camped out with him despite Geoff’s multiple attempts to get them to do “some actual goddamn work around this bitch. I gotta do everything around here on my own, fuck.” There wasn’t any real heat behind his words though, and the lads had merely laughed him off.          

About the only time Michael had left was to help Ryan get his boots back. It was almost too much fun to watch him sulk around barefoot for the day but he’d conceded eventually. Couldn’t have been fun walking around on torn up feet anyways. It also let Michael see exactly what had happened.         

Jeremy had certainly fallen a decent amount, and the warrior cringed when he looked down. It hadn’t rained yet, so the rock ledge still had a dark bloodstain that made his head ache in sympathy. Ryan hadn’t elaborated as to how he’d saved Jeremy, and Michael spent a good deal of time trying to figure it out.          

The scars down the cliffside were confusing. They didn’t look natural, and they only lead to the ledge and back. Though when Michael asked about it, Ryan simply shot him a dark look and asked if he “looked like a goddamn geologist to you?” The subject was quickly dropped and the boot rescue went off without a hitch.          

“Hey Lil J?” He started later in the week, when the curiosity started getting too much. Normally he didn’t dwell on this kind of stuff, but what could he say? It was boring as hell at the cabin and there wasn’t anything else to do. “How the fuck did Ryan get to you on the cliff?”          

“Yeah Jeremy!”  Gavin chimed in excitedly. “Ryan won’t share.”          

Jeremy shrugged. “I wasn’t really conscious guys. I have no clue what happened.”          

“You don’t remember anything?” Gavin leaned forward.          

“Not anything that makes sense at least.” The other two fixed him with confused stares. “Look, no judgment, alright? I hit my head pretty fucking hard.”          

“No promises,” Michael smiled.          

Jeremy tossed a pillow at him, but grinned nonetheless. “I thought I heard Ryan talking to someone down there.”          

“Like one of us?” Gavin asked from his perch on the bed. He was fiddling with something and it took Michael a second to realize it was a bow. He’d been working on it for the last few days and it suddenly clicked why. _For Ryan_ , he guessed with a small smile. It was a nice gesture; Ryan looked too weird without all his weapons. Uncomfortably weak might have been a better description.         

Jeremy shook his head. “No, like someone new. It didn’t sound right though.”          

“No duh,” Michael snorted. “You hit your head. Probably messed something up.”          

“I know! That’s why I said I probably imagined it.”          

“So you don’t know how you got out?”          

“I remember a killer piggy back ride, but that’s about it. Ask Ryan, he’d know more.”          

Gavin pulled a face as he set down his project. “He won’t tell us.”          

“Weird,” Jeremy replied.          

“He’s weird.” Gavin chuckled, and Michael grunted in response. “Like with the arrow. He was bloody weird then.”          

Michael turned to him, brows furrowed. “Arrow?” No one had told him anything about any arrows. Hr shook off the small flicker of annoyance at being left out of something. No use getting worked up over the past.          

“I almost killed Lil J.”          

Maybe he could afford to get a little worked up. “Gavin!”          

“I didn’t though, now did I?” He rolled his eyes with a huff. It was almost as if he didn’t care he’d almost murdered one of his best friends. He did, of course, Michael knew. Sometimes you just have to sit back and laugh at past mistakes, if everything turned out alright in the end. Michael was never particularly good at that though.          

Jeremy snorted. “Thanks to Ryan.” He turned to Michael. “He basically just plucked the arrow straight out of the air and snapped it in half.”          

“Not basically. It’s what he did.” Gavin scoffed playfully.          

“Bullshit,” Michael declared. “That’s crazy.”          

“I told you boi,” Gavin chimed. “He’s weird.”         

There were a hundred questions he wanted to ask, but before he could start, there was a knock at the door. Jack poked in cautiously, and he smile at the sight of the three of them all huddled close. Like a dad happy his kids were playing nice with each other. And normally he’d have hated that kind of look, the type that made him feel small and young. But Jack didn’t smile as much anymore and it was a welcomed sight, worth any embarrassment or belittlement.          

“Sorry to interrupt.” Christ he sounded worn down. “I need someone to take over watch for a while. Geoff’s patrolling down by the bridge, and Ryan’s out doing who-knows what.”          

“Where’re you going Jack?” Gavin asked, an easy curiosity to his voice.          

“Supply run. I’m low on stuff for potions and shit. Some people here can’t seem to stop getting hurt.” He rolled his eyes in faux-annoyance, but there was a bit too much bite to it to be completely joking.                  

Jeremy sat up straighter and put on his best shit-eating grin. “Can’t stop, won’t stop!”          

Gavin snickered, and Michael couldn’t help but chuckle as well. “I think he meant Ryan.”          

“I definitely meant Ryan.” Again, there was a slight edge to it that kept it from being a true joke. Michael shook it off. No time to dwell on it. He and Gavin both left, Jack moving into the room to quickly check on Jeremy before heading out. They could hear the bitching start as they stepped outside.          

Summers always seemed warmer the longer he was away from home. Everything seemed heavy and sticky and old. At least back home he could go to the beach to cool off, and he didn’t have five other people breathing down his neck. Finally having his own space again sounded heavenly as he threw himself down next to the fire pit. It was still too early for any torches to be lit, and he was grateful. No need to be hot and smoky in the middle of the day.          

Gavin, on the other hand, seemed to soak up the sun like a plant. He sat with his head tilted back, the sunlight setting his face ablaze. It made him look blonder then he actually was, and he almost seemed to glow. He was peaceful, for once. After his day with Ryan, he just seemed better, and Michael couldn’t help the swell of pride he felt. It meant they’d talked about everything, which was probably the most difficult thing for any of them to do. Granted, he hadn’t talked about anything either. There wasn’t anything he assured himself. He was perfectly fine.          

They were all different though, that was undeniable. They’d known when they’d set out that they wouldn’t be the same by the end of it all. But they’d expected to feel more accomplished, more like heroes. Instead, everybody was somber and moody. No one seemed to remember they’d won, they’d killed a dragon. They took down a fucking dragon and everyone kept acting like they’d lost. _We won_ , he kept telling himself, as if that would suddenly fix everything.          

Gavin shifted next to him, and his focus drifted. There was still something wrong with Gavin, even if he couldn’t place what. He was just wrong, although he sat there contently, like a cat snoozing in the sun. And Michael was happy that he looked okay, unlike how he’d been in the End. Peaceful yet wrong was better than scared and small and curled in on himself.         

And suddenly, it made sense what was missing.          

“Wait here, I gotta get something.” He bolted up, not bothering to wait for a reply before he barged into the cabin. He’d put it somewhere, where was it? He’d brought it in from cleaning it, hadn’t he? And then he’d had to trim it, so he checked next to his knife. It wasn’t there, and he shuffled through his pack. Maybe he’d tossed it in there. Damn it, if people just cleaned up after themselves, he wouldn’t have to sort through so much shit to find one little-        

Found it!          

“Gav, close your fuckin’ eyes. I’ve got something for you.” He burst out the front door and heard Gavin jump out of his skin. But the sandy-haired lad complied, covering his eyes as he cooed.          

“Micool! I wanna know what it is, Micool.”          

“Shut up, I’m gonna show you.” Michael chuckled as he knelt in front if Gavin. In one swift movement, he wrapped the scarf around his neck, letting the loose ends hang down his chest. It was a little shorter than it used to be, but there was no stains left to mar the green fabric.          

He didn’t wait for an okay, just gasped and opened his eyes. And there it was, a one-of-a-kind dappled scarf. The creeper pattern made the lad’s eyes light up and he buried his face in the familiarity of it.          

“You fixed my scarf?”          

He shrugged. “I did my best. I ended up cutting off a chunk, but whatever.”          

“Michael, that’s wonderful. I thought I left it behind.”          

He shrugged again. “You did. But I figured I could clean it up for you. You look weird without it.”          

Gavin beamed up at him before surging forward to pull him in for a tight hug. There was a mumbled thanks, but not much was needed. It was his boi, after all. What else was he supposed to do?          

When Gavin pulled back, and the sun lit up his face, Michael smiled back. Suddenly, everything seemed right again. They could be right again.

…

It was easier to get away. The lads were constantly with Jeremy, and Geoff and Jack were too busy to bother babying Ryan anymore. He loved his friends, he really did, and their concern was sweet and not unfounded. But it had been a little over three weeks since his injuries and he felt fine. The wounds had closed up and he really only felt them if he pushed himself too hard. Granted, he was constantly sore, but he could handle that.          

Other than the nasty scars on his back, the only other lingering effect anyone could see of the ordeals was the fever. Which, technically, wasn’t even a fever, there weren’t any other symptoms, just a persistent warmth. Where Jack was concerned, Ryan saw nothing wrong. Having a dragon fused with you brought on certain changed, and a rise in temperature was just one of them. The slight sense of vertigo was another, mostly because Ryan kept trying to balance with a tail that was obviously not there.          

He hadn’t been able to manifest anything major since the claws, despite repeated attempts. Once he’d gotten his teeth to sharpen like fangs, but the reshaping of so many small bones nearly had him screaming. There were also patches of black scales dusting each shoulder that hadn’t disappeared yet. He figured they’d fade with time, or he’d have to focus a little harder on hiding them from the guys.          

There was also the unmistakable fact that he could practically hear his hoard singing to him. Even as far out as he was, it was a dull thrum in the back of his head. And it came from underneath him as well. There was a mine or a cave system nearby, most likely, and he could sense the ore practically begging for him. Once or twice it’d gotten so strong that he’d sent and Endermen to collect. It showed up a little while later with a cluster of plum-sized diamonds that had Ryan practically purring. They sang such a pretty tune.          

The best part of everyone leaving him alone was the freedom to push his new limits. There was a new strength that the dragon half brought to the table that made him dizzy. Even in his base form, he was better. Once his wounds had healed and his body adjusted, he felt invincible.          

And the mobs knew it too.          

Since the ill-fated skeleton archer, nothing had tried to attack him directly. Part of that was because the Endermen. They always seemed to hover close, and Ryan had no doubt they’d leap at the chance to protect him. But the children aside, Ryan knew he was the biggest threat in the area. Once he got transforming down, there would be nothing able to stop him. The mere thought sent a shiver down his spine.          

The other thing that made him shutter was the sharp scream he heard. He was, again, by the ravine. Some ways down, there was a bridge they’d build before the End. There weren’t too many resources in the plains, so he hadn’t really bothered to remember where it was. He kicked himself for that, since the voice had clearly come from the other side.          

His head swiveled as he looked for the source. He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to catch their scent. It was faint, but he caught on quickly. _Geoff._ There was another shout, and Ryan bolted, running towards the sound while trying to see across to the other side.          

He heard the spider just before he saw them. The beast was in hot pursuit, its long legs carrying it quickly. Geoff didn’t have his sword drawn, and it didn’t look like the spider would provide the opportunity soon. It nipped and snapped at his heels, and they disappeared behind a hill. Ryan swore.          

There was no thought, because Ryan never thought before making important decisions. All he knew was Geoff was in trouble and he had to help. The first hurdle to cross was a steep one and he was getting pretty fucking sick of it being in the way. The ravine stared back at him, wide and rocky and a bitch to navigate around. But how the hell to get across?          

The dragon stirred. “You’re thinking like a man.”          

“Well, in case you forgot, I am one.”          

“You’re being narrow-minded.”          

“Do you have any actual suggestions or are you just in a mood today?”          

“Think like a dragon.”          

He steeled himself as he looked across the ravine. The water was rushing and the rocks looked particularly sharp. The far edge was just out of range for him, but then Geoff’s shouts were loud in his ears. There was no time, there never was. The makeshift bridge was too far, and it was damn near impossible to climb down, cross the river, and climb up the other side. Geoff would be gone by that point.          

 _Alright,_ he thought to himself, _think like a dragon._ They couldn’t grow wings. He had no idea how that would even work, or if they even could do it, but this wasn’t the time to try it. After all, manifesting two sets of claws had him grasping at consciousness. _There’s bound to be another way._           

He bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment. He wouldn’t normally be able to make the jump, but he wasn’t normal anymore, was he? With the dragon…          

“Use caution, Human. If we fail, the river will take up. Beings of the End don’t take well to water.”          

“Hush, I’ve got this,” Ryan chided, and the dragon fell silent.          

He backed up always, getting a running start, focusing all his strength to his legs. It was strange, using the dragon’s power. It sort of felt like trying to control the spread of fire, dragging it off its set path. But once it took, it thrived.          

At the edge, he sprung forward, propelling himself towards the other side. It was the closest to actual flight they’d been, and the dragon inside howled with delight, their voice tearing out of Ryan’s mouth. And he couldn’t help but enjoy the thrill of it himself. _Like being alive again,_ he thought.          

With a heavy thud, they hit the cliff edge. It took all he had to hold onto the ledge, his feet having not quite made it. Half-hanging off, he scrambled, his feet kicking at the rock and his hands digging into the dirt. The dragon surged, easily taking control of their arms, shifting them quickly. Their new claws hooked into the ground, and together they hauled up their body, throwing themselves on the ground when they reached safety.          

Panting, they laid in the dirt for a minute. He grimaced as the dragon shifted their arms back. He felt sore down to the bone, and he curled his fingers away from the pain. But he didn’t wait too long, quickly rolling to his feet. _Geoff first._           

“Told you I got it,” he hummed.          

The dragon laughed, their voice loud and happy. “It would seem so. My apologies, Hatchling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this might end kinda weird, but hear me out. This was actually one long chapter, but it kinda got too long, so i thought I'd cut it in half. So chapter 8 should be up super soon, like posted later today kind of soon


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, so, I was told that maybe I should put a warning up here.
> 
> There's graphic spider murder in this. Like, it's nasty and I'm sorry.

They took off. Geoff was heading into the hills, if he had seem right. It was unusual for a spider to be out in the day, more so for it to be aggressive. Though most of the mobs were acting aggressively towards each other. Dimly, Ryan was aware it was his fault. They were reacting to a bigger threat.          

Geoff smelled like smoke from their campfire and ink, and he stood out among the wildflowers and the summer breeze. He was running through the bigger hills, and Ryan followed hotly. He’d just climbed to the top of a particularly high hill when he finally spotted them. Geoff was backed against the steep rock face, Ryan out of sight above him and the spider skittering closer.          

Without a thought, Ryan jumped. He fell fast, and landed into a roll, coming to stand in between the monster and its prey. A sword was drawn, practically singing through the air as Ryan snarled. There was a dull pain in his legs, and he was grateful for the dragon, otherwise he was sure he’d have broken something.          

“Where the hell-” Geoff gasped, reaching down to finally pull his own weapon. Ryan didn’t answered, instead watched his prey closely. The spider shuffled back, its many eyes searching. Ryan bared his teeth, hissing sharply as the stretched to fangs. There was another sensation, like he could feel his pupils expand and contract. The dragon was doing something, but Ryan didn’t dwell on it, simply allowed them to work quickly          

Whatever it was, it made the spider reconsider its life choices. Quickly, it backed away, but Ryan surged. His blade made contact, and the air was suddenly thick with the smell of blood. It was sharper than Jeremy’s has been, more acidic and damn near intoxicating. One whiff and he needed more, dipping his sword back into the creature’s body. It screamed in the way spiders do, a strange sort of hiss. Then it lunged forward, jaw snapping to catch his arm.          

He jerked away before it made contact, twisting his whole body. He followed the movement letting himself spin and crash his sword down again. It drew a large gash and came away sticky and splattered with the monster’s greenish blood. Geoff was suddenly at his side, his sword aimed low. It caught the creature in its segmented leg, snagging easily at a joint and breaking through with a disgusting popping sound.         

Despite having lost half a leg, the spider easily danced away. It reared back and spat at them. Ryan moved away easily, his feet light across the grass. Geoff, on the other hand, stumbled. The sticky mass landed with a wet plop, and the humans moved away quickly. From previous experience, the toxic spit stung like a motherfucker, but it wasn’t deadly. Best to avoid it altogether. And if the spider had resorted to spitting, it meant it was backed up into a corner and was trying to get away. Ryan couldn’t let that happen. It wasn’t going to make it out of this alive, some dark part of him craved it.          

It spat again, and this time Ryan wasn’t fast enough. The spit hit him in that arm, spreading and sticking and burning. He dropped his sword, his hand spasming against the pain. Swearing, he was forced to back off as the spider spat again. With Ryan out of range it turned to Geoff. He slashed once, twice, thrice at the creature and it hissed savagely.          

And then it left itself open.          

Ryan lunged forward, using all his strength to knock the spider over. They rolled, a tangle of too many limbs, down another small slope. He gripped hard to its dark, furry body and he pinned it flat when they stopped. Seven full legs scrambled for purchase and Ryan easily reached down and grasped one. He tugged once, pulling with all his might, and it snapped off in his hand, leaking dark ichor onto the ground. The ground was soaked with gore as he angled the appendage at the point where the head met the body.          

Spider legs were not the strongest material in the world, but combined with the force of a very angry Ender Dragon, it slid easily into the spider’s body. It didn’t have to cry out before it died, and Ryan felt his arms slick with gore and viscera. He breathed heavily as he stood, throwing his makeshift weapon down next to the corpse.         

Geoff was watching him from above, something dark in his eyes. But Ryan smiled nonetheless, the loud thrum of a battle won making him giddy. The older man flinched back slightly, and something in the wind changed. _He smells like fear_ , Ryan thought. It would makes sense, if not for the fact they’d won. There wasn’t a threat anymore.          

“It’s us,” the dragon hummed in his head.          

“He’s never been scared of me before.” Ryan murmured, turning to scowl at the mess before him.          

“He’s feared me before.”          

Ryan didn’t reply, and he tried to ignore the heavy feeling in his gut as he looked at his hands. It’d been too fun, he knew it, to kill something weaker then himself. It felt powerful in a way it had never felt before. There was a life in him he hadn’t realized felt dead. Suddenly, in those loud moments of bloodshed and adrenaline, he felt put together. And he’d just spent so long feeling like pieces of him were missing that he wanted to bottle up that temporary euphoria and keep it forever.         

It was wrong. It was feral and desperate and it certainly wasn’t human. But, he wasn’t human, not really. And he wasn’t a dragon either. He was something entirely new and there weren’t rules yet for what was wrong and what was right. He could be powerful and ruthless and in the same breath be loving and gentle. He could be bloodthirsty and self-sacrificing. He could be anything.         

But he was wrong. There was too much of both parts to blend together seamlessly. He felt skewed one way or another, drifting between two opposites. And he felt hungry and lost and small. He wanted to go home and curl up in his cave and bury himself in piles of gold and sleep for a century. And he wanted to wake up and go tromping through the woods with the others, and laugh at their jokes and revel in their company. And he wanted the dark of the End and the salty sea breeze. And he wanted so damn much that he couldn’t have.          

So while in the battle, he’d finally felt whole, the silence afterwards left him disjointed and broken again.         

When he looked up again, Geoff was moving towards him. They locked eyes, for a moment, and they both just looked tired. But the apprehension was gone, and the smell of fear was whisked away by the heavy smell of summer. Ryan broke first, eyes finding their way back to his kill. He felt sick, looking at what he’d done, what he’d enjoyed doing. He hated it. He hated himself.         

There was suddenly a hand on his shoulder, and he jumped. Geoff was watching him, his mouth a tight frown. “Ryan, you okay there buddy?”          

“I’m fine.” He closed his eyes, took a steadying breath. “I uh, improvised.”          

“I can see that. Where the hell did you even come from?”         

“I saw you in trouble,” he shrugged. “I came to help.”          

“Not to sound ungrateful dude, but I could have handled it.”          

Ryan shrugged again.          

“Alright, look at me.” Geoff tugged at his shoulder until Ryan finally met his eyes. “I appreciate it Rye, I really do. But you don’t have to keep saving me.”          

“You were in trouble.”         

“I’m always in trouble.”          

“I could help. I did help.”          

“I know. You did good, but you gotta stop rushing into these things. I don’t-” Geoff paused, took a deep breath, and looked away. Ryan waiting silently until he spoke again, shifting slightly. “I don’t want you to get hurt for me again.”         

Ryan was quiet a moment, listening as two songbirds called back and forth. The dragon shifted, and Ryan sighed. “Gavin kinda said the same thing to me a while back. I think you’re both ignoring something important here though.”         

Geoff’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.          

“It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t his fault, and it isn’t your fault. It’s not even really the dragon’s fault.” The dragon shifted at its mention, and Geoff opened his mouth to speak. “I chose to do that. I knew it was dangerous and I did it anyways. It was my decisions. I wanted to save you.”          

“You can’t always do that thought. What if that was it? What if Jack hadn’t been able to fix you?”          

“What if I hadn’t interceded?” The dragon asked quietly, a whisper in his head.          

“It’d be worth it, if you were okay.”         

“Would it? Do you think that low of yourself? Are you really okay with leaving all this behind?”          

“I don’t hate myself. And I don’t want to leave. God, I don’t ever want this to end. But what was I supposed to do? Let you die?”          

“Why am I more important than you?” Geoff was angry suddenly, curling his hands into fists. Ryan took a step back.         

“Because there are so many people looking up to you. You’re the leader. You matter.”          

“You don’t?”         

He started to shake his head. “Not as mu-”          

“If you finish that sentence,” Geoff leveled him with a glare. “I will personally kick your ass.”          

“Geoff-”          

“No.” He jabbed Ryan in the chest with a finger. “There’s nothing to add to the answer. It’s a yes or no kind of deal. So, do you matter?”         

“Yes?” Ryan took another step back, feeling a little like a scolded child.         

“Your answer can’t be a questions, dumbass.”          

He nodded, or rather, the dragon nodded for him. There was no time to hide the surprise at the answer, and he stared at Geoff with wide eyes. Deep inside, the dragon hummed softly, soothing, reassuring. He mattered.          

“To the Endermen,” the dragon spoke, “and to those around you, this family you have made, And to me. You matter so very much. You are dear to so many, you understand?”          

Ryan nodded, this time more sure of himself, and Geoff smiled. The older man looked relieved, his shoulders sagging and any sense of anger quickly melted away.          

“I don’t want to hear you say you don’t matter. Every single one of us mattered. They’ll fight you too if you try to tell them otherwise. You mean too much to us.”          

“I know,” Ryan murmured, feeling small and raw and vulnerable. Too much excitement for one day.          

“Do you?” Geoff wrapped his arms around himself. “Because you didn’t see them when you got hurt. They were worried, _I_ was worried. Gavin had to be dragged off by Michael, and Jeremy stuck by your side the entire time. I don’t even know if Jack slept at all during it. If you had died…”         

“I’m sorry, I just…” He couldn’t find the words for how he felt. He couldn’t put into words how he would have gone mad if Geoff had been killed. Because they would have broken apart, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t have had a leader, no direction or purpose. They’d fall apart. Or without Gavin to laugh away the doom and gloom or distract them with impossible questions. They’d break down without him. And without Jack, they’d self-destruct. He was the reason and calm and common-sense. And Jeremy was exciting and interesting and kept them moving and on their toes. And Michael was determination, driving them forward with a war cry. They’d stall out without them.          

“And you are stability,” the dragon interjected. “Grounding and comforting. They’d burn too bright without you. You balance them.”          

“I need them,” he whispered. “I need them so damn much that I think I might go crazy.”         

Geoff nodded, reached out again and squeezed his shoulder. “We need you too Ryan. Please don’t forget that.”          

Ryan bit his lip, but he nodded again, before clearing his throat and shuffling awkwardly. “Can, can we not tell the others about this?”         

“My lips are sealed buddy. This stays between us.” Geoff looks around again, pulling a face as he remembered Ryan was literally covered in spider remains. “Alright, let’s get you home before you start to smell.”         

Ryan pulled a face, flicking his tongue out quickly. “I think I already do.” Geoff laughed in response. “Should probably get Jack to look at my arm too.”          

“Shit dude, I forgot. You okay?”         

Ryan hummed. “Doesn’t actually hurt too badly. Much have been some weak shit.”          

“Can’t take you anywhere, can we? I feel like Jack’s patched you up a million times now.”          

Ryan laughed, but he couldn’t really deny it. And he was certainly starting to feel like he was held together by string and desperation. But the dragon hummed again, oddly musical and very familiar.

For the moment, he was okay, as strange as it sounded.

…

The fire was warm and bright, illuminating the five faces around it. They all looked tired, worn-down and dirty. He felt it, God did he feel it. The urge to get up and run away was almost too strong, but he swallowed it down and looked around. They need him here, to hold it all together. Because Ryan was right; there were so many people looking up to him, waiting for his decisions and wisdom.          

Too bad he was a dumbass.         

He ran a hand through his hair before speaking. “We gotta talk about Ryan.”          

The lads all exchanged a look. They’d been talking them. _Good,_ he thought, _I’m not the only one who sees it._ Jack nodded, head down and hands clasped. He needed a break. Nearly a month of nonstop patch jobs was starting to take its toll. His skin looked pale and thin, and his beard was starting to look wild. The bags under his eyes were almost permanent bruises and it broke Geoff’s heart.          

“There’s something wrong with him,” Jack said, more to himself then to the group.         

Michael huffed out a mirthless laugh. “There’s a lot wrong with him. You wanna elaborate?”          

Geoff shrugged. “There’s just something off about him. Like he’s different.”          

“He’s always been different.” Michael muttered, but he still cast an unsure glance between them all.         

The leader nodded. “I mean, yeah, you’re not wrong.” He leveled everyone a serious gaze suddenly, one that spoke to how much this meant to him. “Haven’t any of y’all noticed anything wrong?”          

Gavin rubbed his arm shyly. “I have. When we were out together, he seemed normal most of the time. Maybe a little sad, but still Ryan. But then, it was almost like someone else, yeah? Like Ryan wasn’t there anymore. Felt like talking with some completely different person.”         

“It’s weird as dicks.” Geoff nodded.          

He couldn’t get it out of his head. Ryan wasn’t right, in that moment, with blood and gore splattered haphazardly up his arms and across his chest. The way he stood looking down at the corpse at his feet was predatory. It was like he was proud of what he’d done.          

And the way he’d looked at Geoff, it made him shudder. There was something off about him, about the way his lips curled into a toothy smile, about the way his eyes were almost too dark and narrow. If he hadn’t known better, hadn’t carried him home and wrapped his wounds, he would have thought they’d brought the wrong Ryan home with them.          

And Geoff hated himself for thinking it, but in that moment, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the man before him was a monster.          

Maybe it was just the adrenaline, or maybe it was the gore. Or maybe it was a hundred thousand little reasons his stomach dropped at the sight. And maybe it was him, not Ryan. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t shake off the image of Ryan from before, his face twisted in pain as he took the killing blow meant for Geoff. Maybe he just couldn’t swallow his guilt and accept that Ryan was fine. Maybe he was finding reasons to hold on to past mistakes.         

Because in the next moment, he was so small, curling in on himself. And he’d said those awful things that made Geoff’s heartbreak. He’d just wanted to help, like he always had. He had, after all. Geoff could have taken the spider if he could have gotten his sword out in time. Ryan had just given him the opportunity. He’d just wanted to help and Geoff had jumped down his throat.          

“Okay,” Jack spoke after a minute, pulling Geoff from his musings. “You guys have to remember, he went through a traumatic event. He’s gonna be a little off.”          

Gavin squawked, indignant. “We were all there Jack.”          

“He’s the one who died!”          

“Don’t say that.” The lad twisted his hands in his scarf, holding it close.          

Jack threw his hands up. “What do you want me to say? He died, like actual, for real died. Would you be okay after that?”          

“But,” Jeremy started, voice small. “He seemed fine.”          

“We all seemed fine.”          

Michael scoffed. “I am fine.”          

“Jack’s right,” Geoff said firmly. He stared hard at each and every one of them. “We’re all a little fucked up right now. We’re running on fumes and I don’t’ know about you guys, but I’m getting pretty damn tired of this fucking place.”          

They all stared at him, until Jack broke the silence. “So what’re we doing Geoff?”          

“We’re going home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not actually sorry about the spider murder. It was fun to write. I am sorry in advance though. We're almost to chapter 10!


	9. Chapter 9

Achievement City was big and beautiful and as soon as it came into view the six adventures felt their shoulders sag with relief. It’d been too damn long since they’d seen home and no one felt moved to mention the tears in Geoff’s eyes.          

It was early, the first rays of dawn softly lighting the world. Despite the danger, they’d traveled through the night, too eager to rest. No mobs bothered them, but the glowing eyes of the Endermen watched from the shadows. No one noticed, or said anything if they did, as the creatures keep silent vigil over them.          

The city slept as they entered, slipping silently down the streets. After so long away, the buildings towered above them and boxed them in. But it was familiar and everyone wore a smile. And they grew ever more excited when they finally reached their square.          

It was separate, just off the main body of the town, and it gave them privacy without isolating them. Six houses, as different as the men who owned them, sat facing a common green. There was extravagance with Geoff’s house standing many stories high, like a small castle. And there was humility as Ryan’s small home sat to the side, meager and peaceful and littered, as always, with wild animals. Jack’s gardens guarded his modest dwelling, while Gavin’s own jumbled mess looked haphazardly build, but cozy nonetheless. Jeremy’s home was nicer, carefully crafted and decorated for his arrival to the group, while Michael’s seemed plain and sturdy, simple yet strong.          

They broke apart wordlessly, and the six adventurers spent the rest of the day sleeping off their travels. And they would have remained there longer had they had the supplies to do so. But they needed food and materials and they came together briefly to assign duties. The lads were sent to get food, at least until Jack was able to check on his gardens. He and Ryan were headed to the mines first to collect coal and iron and anything else they needed to start up again. Geoff was headed into the city to catch up on news and shop around for anything else they might need.          

Again, they separated, happy to finally be home.

…          

Ryan was humming softly as they walked back, bags full of raw materials. They’d had an easy time finding everything, and Jack was glad. It was a pity to spend such a beautiful day underground. Ryan was lucky; it seemed like every time he went to dig, he found something they needed. His smug smile was worth the time saved.          

Everyone seemed happier now that they were back. Everyone was in one piece, and they were. As soon as the square was restocked, life would go back to normal. No more dragon, no more injuries, no more quiet desperation and quilt.          

“You’re in a good mood today.”          

Ryan blinked at him, eyes impossible blue in the summer sun. And it was so damn nice to see him smile, to see the faint rush of pink to his cheeks as he realized he’d been caught. Jack smiled back, bumped their shoulders together.          

He chuckled. “It’s a good day.”          

Jack nodded. “Feels good to be home. I didn’t realize how much I missed my own bed until I laid down.”          

“Think you’ll sleep better now we’re here?” Ryan asked.          

It was Jack’s turn to blink owlishly at him. “You know?” He could have sworn he’d hidden it well enough that people wouldn’t notice. All the nights spent on watch because he couldn’t close his eyes without remembering what had happened, without thinking about how close he’d come to failing everyone. And all the days taking patrol because being in that cabin felt like being in a morgue. And all the time spent working himself into the ground in hopes of forgetting the last month of his life.          

Ryan shrugged and looked away. “I notice a lot of things.”          

He sighed, unconsciously adjusted the pack on his back. It seemed too heavy all of a sudden, and his shoulders were starting to ache. “I hope I’ll do better here. Distance is good, right?”          

Ryan hummed in agreement. “I didn’t like it there much either. Too cramped, I felt like we were living on top of each other.          

“It’ll be better now.”

Ryan looked over at him and smiled again. “I believe you. Feels positive here.”          

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Jack spoke after a quiet moment.          

“I’m okay, at least right now.” Ryan nodded, something unsure in his voice as he spoke.          

He bumped their shoulders together again, smiling softly at the older gent. “Right now is all that matters. You’re doing great Ryan.”          

Ryan snorted. “I’m not exactly doing anything. It’s mostly you and the others.”          

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re doing a good job of not letting is get you down.”          

He looked at Jack a moment, as if he were looking for something in his face. But it was true, wasn’t it? As far as Jack was concerned, Ryan was doing fantastic. Sure, there was something off, and sometimes it felt like he were distant and gone, but that was to be expected. Progress and healing weren’t straight lines, but Ryan seemed to take his setbacks in stride. He was still here, still staring at them like they hung the moon. And he still got up every day and tried to make sure everyone else was okay, as if their wellbeing would help him along.          

But Jack was proud of him. Everyone else seemed to break down and fall apart. Not Ryan, not completely, despite how easy it would have been. Instead he’d just gone back to normal, starting living his life and picking everyone’s pieces up. And they were all doing better for it. Gavin could smile, and Geoff’s shoulders didn’t weigh him down as much. Jeremy looked more confident, and Michael laughed easier. He himself felt better too, the further they got from everything. Every step forward Ryan took chased away the crushing dark around them.          

Ryan never replied, and they reentered the square. The lads were laughing somewhere but Jack couldn’t see them. The older gent snickered and pointed upwards, and Jack swore. _How the hell did they get on top of Geoff’s house?_ He rolled his eyes as Ryan shouted a greeting at them. The lads responded in kind, laughing loudly.          

The gents dragged their heavy packs to the storage chests and began sorting their findings. While Jack had thought his bag was full, Ryan’s was practically brimming. It left him wondering how the hell he’d carried it back so easily. It had to weigh an absolute fuck ton. Surely he’d be feeling it tomorrow.          

They worked silently, and at some point Ryan had started humming again. Jack spent a good minute trying to figure out the song, but he couldn’t place it. It didn’t sound like anything he’d heard before, but Ryan sang it like he’d heard it every day for years. It was nice, in a weird way, and he didn’t comment on it. Part of him didn’t actually want Ryan to stop.          

The song stopped abruptly, and Jack looked over to find Ryan staring over his shoulder at something. He spun around to follow his gaze, and it landed on their message board, littered with old papers and out of date maps. No, on second thought, he was looking past it, over the board at right at the tower.          

Four heavy blocks of gold on an obsidian base. The sunlight made it hard to look at as it glistened and glittered. It’d been there for ages, something they’d uncovered on an early adventure, sometime before even Ryan had joined the group. It’d been a pain to bring it back, but Gavin has insisted. And he had to admit, it did look pretty damn good.          

But Ryan was staring at it like he’d just realized it was there. He looked almost hungry as he watched it, and it seemed to take a great deal of effort for him to turn away. He shuttered once, then went back to work.          

“You okay there?”          

Ryan glanced up briefly. “I almost forget we had that.”          

“The tower?”          

“Yeah. Weird right? What you notice when you’ve been gone awhile? Seems louder now.”          

“Louder?”          

Ryan paused, seemed to contemplate what he’d just said. “Yeah, louder. I don’t have a better explanation, so please don’t ask.”          

Jack nodded and turned back to his work. Occasionally though, he caught Ryan sneaking a peak back at the tower.          

Ryan was okay, Jack was sure at least today he was. But he was still off somehow.

…

They were bored. The gents were doing most of the restocking, and they’d already done enough hunting for a few days. Boredom lead to stupidity which in turn lead to bets. When Michael had challenged Jeremy to climb to the top of Geoff’s house, how could he refuse? And when it became a three-way race to the top, the lads could feel their faces aching with the force of their smiles.            

It was calm, the wind caressing them and the warm summer sun high in the sky. The ocean waved at them, dazzling bright and set ablaze, lapping lightly at the shore behind them. To the other side, away from the bulk of the city, were tall trees that cast dappled shadows on the ground below. They were taller, lighter than the woods around the cabin, friendlier. Home.          

They could see Jack in the square, working in his gardens. Ryan had gone inside after emptying his bags from their supply run, and Geoff still wasn’t home yet. Probably off announcing their triumphant return. Gavin and Michael were taking turns shooting at random targets around the square. The fur-clad warrior was falling behind, swearing loudly as Gavin hit his mark dead on.          

“God dammit Gavin.” He swore, but smiled. There was more pride in his eyes then actual heat. “You’re too fucking good at this.”          

“Absolutely top, right my boi?” He snickered, letting the bow relax in his grip.          

“How'd you even get so good?” Jeremy asked from the side, idly watching their competition.          

Gavin shrugged and Michael smirked. “He didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t lift a sword if he tried.”          

“Micool! That’s not true Micool!”          

“Or is it just ‘cause you don’t wanna get gross?” Jeremy leaned in with a devilish grin.          

“Who’d want to get covered in something else’s bits?” He looked genuinely bewildered, going so far as to softly gag at the thought. The other two bubbled out a laugh before Gavin continued. “My dad used to tell me stories of Mark Nutt, the best damn archer this side of the kingdom. They said he could hit a fly a mile away and leave the wings still fluttering.”          

Michael snorted. “It’s just a story Gav.”          

He grinned wide. “Not anymore it’s not.” He raised his bow in one fluid motion, notching an arrow. There wasn’t even time for a breath before he fired. The arrow cut through the air, carving a path until it landed firmly in place. Jack jumped back, letting the small potato he’d just unearthed fall from his hands. Gavin’s arrow split it perfectly in two, dead center and clean. There were triumphant whoops and cheers that nearly drowned out Jack’s cry of “Dammit Gavin!”

“Why’d you ask?” The creeper-clad lad sat down next to him, half carelessly tossing the bow to his side.          

Jeremy shrugged. “A little curious just how everyone else ended up here.”          

“Geoff asked,” Gavin replied, as if that settled everything.          

“Yeah, I know that. I was just wondering why everyone else became adventurers.”          

Michael shrugged, setting himself down next to Gavin, laying his legs across the other man’s. “‘Cause it’s fun.”          

“Most of the time, yeah.” Gavin agreed.          

“How’s you end up here?” Jeremy nodded at Michael.          

“This moron,” he poked Gavin, “wouldn’t let me leave.”          

“You’re my boi Micool! You couldn’t leave me.”          

The warrior shoved Gavin, who simply giggled as he was smashed into Jeremy. He shoved back and Gavin followed the motion limply, passed from lad to lad.          

After a moment, Michael looked over. “You ask the gents yet?”          

“I asked Ryan.”          

“And?”          

“‘Wish fulfillment.’” He scoffed, adding air quotes around his words.          

“Wot?” Gavin asked.          

“Right!? Getting a straight answer out of him is like pulling teeth.”

Gavin nodded sagely, and Michael chuckled while he looked out over the edge of the roof. “Hey, I know why Jack’s here.”          

“Oh?” Jeremy asked.          

“Someone’s gotta take care of Geoff in his old age.”          

The three lads dissolved into cackling, before a disgruntled shout drew their attention. The stumbled up, peering down to see Geoff. He crossed his arms and glared up at them.          

“I heard that, assholes! Get the fuck off my house!”          

Jeremy snorted, staring challenging back. “You gonna make me?”          

“Jeremy, I swear to god. Get off my house.”          

“I don’t have to listen to you. I’m literally on a roof and you’re not.”          

Michael rolled his eyes. “Lil J, you hearing this guy?”          

“I know, right!?”          

“Hey Gav. You wanna take care of this?”          

The green-eyes lad grinned, scooping up his bow. He fired once, the arrow digging into the ground between Geoff’s feet.  He shrieked embarrassingly, staggering backwards as the lads laughed. Jack, watching wordlessly, rolled his eyes and kept gardening.          

“If you hit me, I’m gonna feed you to a creeper.” Another arrow landed near him. “I’m serious!” He screamed, his voice cracking over the words in his excitement.          

“Please don’t kill him,” Jack called, not even looking up from the basket he was arranging. There was as moment of silence, and when he looked over, an arrow embedded itself into a nearby carrot. “Gavin! I said don’t kill him. You can keep messing with him.”          

“Jack!” Geoff cried, betrayed.          

Another arrow was fired at Jack. “Fuck! Leave the farm alone! Do you wanna starve?”          

There was another peel of laughter, and the commotion finally drew the final member of the group from his house. He stared blankly at the two gents, then slowly glanced up at the lads. Gavin quickly spun and aimed at him, but didn’t fire.          

“Uh,” Ryan said rather intelligently.

Geoff smiled brightly. “Ryan, quick! Defend my honor.”          

“You don’t have any,” he deadpanned, but reached inside for his borrowed bow nonetheless.

“I don’t want the sass. I want the shoot.”          

Ryan shrugged, aiming up at Gavin, who shrank back nervously. “Alright, but I can’t guarantee I won’t hit him.”          

“Ryan no!” Gavin squealed, jumping back as Ryan fired. The arrow flew by harmlessly, but the lad still ducked behind his boi.          

Michael pushed him off. “Don’t use me as a shield! Shoot back!”          

“Yes! Push them back and get them the fuck off my roof.”          

Ryan paused and looked over, something malicious in his eyes. “Oh, is that what this is about. Well, in that case…” He turned suddenly, shooting where Geoff’s feet danced away. From the roof the lads cheered.          

“Bip!”

“No! Fuck you. You’re supposed to be **my** warrior.”          

“It’s Ryan, what’d you expect?” Jack chuckled, standing up and brushing the dirt from his hands.          

“Traitor!” Geoff yelled, prompting Ryan to fire again. “You all suck!”          

“Geoffrey please,” Gavin cried, mock offense in his voice.          

“You suck the most.”          

Jeremy nodded. “He’s kinda right Gav.”          

“Jeremy! You’re supposed to be on my side, Jeremy!”          

The two archers looked to each other, eyes meeting. Some unspoken conversation passed, and they both nodded. Then, in a flash, they turned and fired upon their respective teams.          

Jeremey shouted over Michael’s cry of Gavin’s name, “There’s no room up here!” Jack swore as he stepped back, a shout of Ryan’s name almost drowned out Geoff’s exasperated “You’re all fired.” The two of the kept firing, laughing as their friend’s danced away. That is until Gavin reached back to grab another arrow and came away empty-handed.          

“Penis,” he whispered before Michael and Jeremy were upon him. They wrestled, laughing and shouting happily.          

Ryan snickered, until he too ran out of arrows. He stared at Geoff with wide eyes for a moment, a small “whoops” leaving his lips. But before the leader could react, Ryan was throwing aside his bow and charging forward. He never made contact as Jack’s strong arms snuck up behind him, wrapped around his middle, and lifted him off the ground. He kicked his feet as Geoff tackled them both, an undignified shriek coming from someone that totally wasn’t Ryan. Definitely not.          

Gavin squirmed as Jeremy dug his fingers into the creeper-clad lad’s sides, forcing a breathless laugh out. Michael helped, pinning his arms to his chest to let Jeremy work. The three rolled, shifting in a fight for dominance. At one point, Gavin broke free, swatting at Michael with wild hands before he was caught again.          

The gents were a series of thrown elbows and wild kicks and Ryan tried to escape. He couldn’t breathe through his laughter as Geoff dragged fingers down his sides and middle. Jack kept him down, easily catching his hands and holding him in place. Unlike Gavin, once Ryan got a free hand, he flipped him and Geoff and started his own assault.          

Soon though, everyone was breathing hard, little puffs of laughter breaking the summer spell. They backed off, leaning against one another as they gasped for air.          

“Alright dicks,” Geoff huffed after a minute. “Let’s stop.”

…

There was an Endermen at the house, hissing happily as it laid its newest gifts in Ryan’s hands. It was just a handful of stones, but he smiled as he took it. The Endermen didn’t teleport away, following behind Ryan as he went inside. He didn’t mind; it was comforting to have the children around. They made the square feel alive in a strange way Ryan couldn’t explain. And as long as no one else saw them, they were free to come and go as they pleased.          

He put the stones in the chest by the wall, smiling at the small hoard of materials he’d been gifted. The precious ones were still in his bed, mostly under the pillow. He’d thought at first it’d be uncomfortable to sleep on the gems, but he found it some of the best sleep he’d ever had.                     

It was a good night, he decided as he shifted through his treasures. The children had been generous and it made his heart swell. There was a calm over everything and the disjointed feeling was somewhat faded. It was good to be home, to be safe and happy. And it felt good to have the dragon settled inside, humming softly in his mind.          

He dropped control, let the dragon melt forward, and he smiled at the strange song of the End. It made him think of home, high on the mountain top, surrounded by the Endermen. It was a song of warmth and strength, to bolster themselves for life in the End and to assure them of their place in things. It was an ancestral song, passed in blood from each respawn. He felt it as much as he heard it, a strange magic in his blood.

But it was pleasant, the way the dragon absent-mindedly sung. It broke the silence of the night and softened the pressure in his head. It always felt better when they shared, when he let the dragon have a moment to breath. And the dragon seemed much less intimidating while it reminisced upon a childhood long passed. The man might even have been tempted to sing along, had the dragon not been using their vocal cords.          

Everything in the chest was settled, and he pushed himself up to his feet. The Endermen had left, probably to find more gifts, and Ryan brushed it off. He moved around the small house, straightening things as he went. There were still things he’d need to stock up on, and he wondered softly if Gavin would want to go on a hunting trip with him soon. It sounded fun.

He’d just set his sword by the door when he heard it. The wail was long and loud as he stood ramrod-straight. It sounded again and he ran to the door, eyes wide and heart in his throat. It was Michael, diamond sword drawn, letting it sing through the air, as he hacked at an Endermen. The creature was bleeding, one arm hanging limp at its side. It blinked away, but it wasn’t done.          

Michael wheeled around just as the Endermen reappeared behind him. It only had time to step back before the warrior struck, blade sinking into the creature’s belly. And it screamed as it fell forward, knees weak. It seemed too human, knelt in the dirt, one good hand over its wound. And it seemed too human as it looked up and saw Ryan.          

It tried to speak, but the words were lost as its throat filled with blood. It coughed wetly, hissing wildly, and thick blood spilled down its chin. Finally, it fell to the side, all the while looking to Ryan as if knowing he was there was a comfort. It gurgled and coughed again, and finally it sighed as death took it.

Ryan thought he was going to be sick. His head swam and he leaned on the doorframe to steady himself. His hands trembled as he looked at the warrior before him.          

And he hated him.

…

They heard wailing from inside their homes and each man peaked out to investigate. There was blood everywhere, soaking into the ground and coating Michael’s hands. The slain Endermen stared lifelessly at Ryan who stood, pale and shaking, in the doorway. Geoff got there first, stepping up to stand next to Michael. The warrior looked from him to Ryan, confused.          

He wailed, the hurt and confusion firmly displayed on his face. At the sound, every head snapped to look at him, to make sure he hadn’t been hurt. But he looked fine, distraught but alright.          

“Ry-” Geoff couldn’t finish. Ryan shot him a look of pure, unfiltered hatred. He threw his shoulders back, held his head up high, and suddenly Geoff could see the monster again. The others moved in slowly, Gavin coming closest, sliding up next to Michael.          

“You murderers! You thieves and barbarians!” Everyone startled. The voice that spoke through Ryan’s lips was not his. It reverberated through their heads, and stole the air from their lungs. In one breath it was the loudest voice, but the quietest whisper, both a cacophony and a symphony. But it was not Ryan.

Michael lifted his sword, the dark blood of the Endermen still clinging to its surface. “Ryan?”

The gent blinked, and he was suddenly a different person. No longer were his shoulders thrown back in defiance, or his head carried with pride. He stumbled, knees weak. A visible tremor ran from head to toe and in his startling blue eyes was fear.          

“You need to run,” he whispered, his voice firmly Ryan again.          

“Wha-” but the words fell dry in Jack’s throat.          

“I’m not in control anymore. You have to go.”          

No one made any move to leave except Gavin, who gave Ryan a decisive nod and pulled on Michael’s arm. It happened so fast after that. They saw Ryan stiffen, groan in pain, and then rise to his full height. His fingers faded to black, then it spread up his arms and seemed to crack. Nails stretched into obsidian claws that glinted in the moonlight. They watched in silent horror as those blue eyes darkened to purple, the iris overtaking the whites of his eyes, and the pupils narrow into slits.          

And they saw him open his mouth, the familiar crackle of enderfire filling the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. Fluff isn't the easiest for me to write, so I struggled a while trying to get this right.
> 
> And I'm terribly sorry for what's to come.


	10. Chapter 10

Had Gavin not nearly ripped Michael’s arm off by sharply pulling him away, the mighty warrior would have been bathed in the full might of dragon’s fire. Even still, he could smell the burning of fur on his bear skin as the last licks of the flames reached out to grasp him. The sudden fire drew everyone from themselves and they scattered.

Geoff shoved Jack hard, pulling him behind him as they ran. Jeremy watched the other two lads peel off on their own and he swore under his breath. He raised his sword defensively, watched Ryan as they stood grinning.

“Ryan.” He cursed the waver in his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Dark, inhuman eyes bore holes into him. “I have not forgotten what you did to me, Wild One.”

Jeremy furrowed his brows. “The fuck do you mean?”

“How does the saying go? ‘An eye for an eye,’ correct?”

He balked, and the dragon surged forward. One dark hand curled around the blade, the soft padding splitting easily, red spilling freely down the metal. They didn’t flinch, smiling manically as they leaned close to practically purr in Jeremy’s ear.

“You did kill me, after all. High time I returned the favor.”

The other hand shot out and Jeremy hit the deck. Claws passed harmlessly through the air where he’d been standing, and for the first time in a long time, he was grateful for being short. Ryan- Not Ryan? - still held his sword, and they threw it to the ground with a growl. The lad rolled quickly, reaching out to grasp it. But just as his fingers curled around the hilt, a heavy boot slammed down on his hand. He screamed, and the dragon chuckled.

“You humans are such frail, breakable creatures.” They reached down, hauled Jeremy up by the front of his shirt, claws tearing holes in the thin fabric. They’re other hand snaked around the lad’s throat and squeezed.

He tried to pry the fingers away, but the dragon’s grip was too strong. He couldn’t breathe. Panicked, he kicked out wildly. With a snarl, the dragon gave him a firm shake and a small whine escaped Jeremy’s lips. There was blood pumping in his ears and his heart was beating a mile a minute in his chest. Shakily, he reached out, dug his short nails into Ryan’s cheek. They snarled, but Jeremy pressed in as much as he could until thin red trails mixed with the scruff on their face. 

And then he could breathe again, and he fell to the ground coughing. Blinking away the tears in his eyes, he looked up to see Ryan take a step back, being his claws up to his arms and rack them down. He hissed in pain, stared at Jeremy with wide eyes. They darted once to the sword at his feet, then back to his face. 

“Please Jeremy.” Ryan begged, voice strained as he fought to keep his place on top. “I need you to kill me.”

The sword shook, weighed heavily in his opposite hand. The lad watched Ryan struggled, rack his claws down his arms again and hiss as he bled. It was his opening, his chance to end this before anyone else got hurt. But…

“I can’t Ryan. Don’t ask me to do that.”

“Then for the love of god, just run already.”

So he did, and as he left the square and plunged into the woods, he heard the dragon roar.

…

For a moment, the dragon was still, contemplating which of the humans to hunt first. They wiped angrily at the blood on their cheek, though the cuts down their arms hurt worse, and there were places were scales had been ripped away. The dragon growled, and Ryan laughed mirthlessly inside their head.         

“If you think that’s bad, just wait until Michael gets to you. He’s gonna stick that sword so far up your ass, you’ll be feeling it for your next three lives.”          

“Is he so ready to kill us?”          

“He’ll do what he needs to do to keep the others safe. They all will.”          

The dragon hummed. “Even the Archer, with all his shrieks and giggles? Will he so readily snuff out your flame?”          

“He’ll do what he has to. Face it, we’re not walking away from this one.”          

The dragon chuckled darkly. “You’re thinking like a human again.”          

And then there was pain shooting across their back. The dragon let out a hiss through sharp, gritted teeth, and steeled themself. Ripping suddenly from their body came two wings, black and webbed and stretching out. They were huge and the dragon staggered a moment until they found their balance. Despite the pain of having their body reshaped so drastically, the dragon laughed, throwing their head back.          

And then they were flying, the ground zipping by below them. Part of Ryan felt strangely excited as the wind snapped at them, the world opened up down below, the tremendous roar in their ears deafened them. Perhaps if they hadn’t been hunting down his friends, it could have been fun. But any feeling of elation was dashed away by knowing the dragon was out for blood and he was powerless to fight him.          

If the dragon could manifest wings with no dizziness or disorientation, there was no telling how much energy they had stored up. He hoped it wasn’t enough, that modifying their body so extremely was a burden.          

Darkly, he know it wasn’t.

…

Gavin had looked back to shout something to Michael, but the words tumbled out of his mouth as a jumbled mess when he saw it. Ryan was charging at them from the sky- the bloody sky! - on the biggest damn wings Gavin had ever seen. If he was scared of Ryan before, it was nothing compared to the absolute terror that turned his blood to ice.          

Without warning, Gavin dragged Michael to the side, ducking into the forest. He could have sworn he’d heard a dragon’s roar as they disappeared into the trees. They ran, darting in and out as they moved deeper into the woods, the leaves above their heads woven so thick, they were almost blind. When they finally stopped, Gavin nearly toppled over trying to catch his breath.          

“The fuck was all of that?” Somehow being out of breath didn’t make Michael any quieter.          

“He had wings Michael! Bloody huge ones!”          

“He could breathe fire.”          

“It can’t have been actual Ryan, could it?” The genuine hurt and confusion in his voice made Michael want to scream.          

“What do you fucking think Gavin? Of course it wasn’t ‘actual Ryan!’”          

Gavin was about to reply, but there was another thunderous roar and the pair of lads ducked down instinctively. Gavin felt it reverberate through his chest, and it felt like all the life left his body. Fear made his head swim, and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to run.          

There was a rustling on the bushes behind them and they spun around swiftly, Michael poised to stab and Gavin notching an arrow. He didn’t fire though, as the figure emerged. It was too dark to be sure of any shot, and the thought of actually hurting Ryan made him want to gag.          

Even in the dark, Gavin recognized the figure. He lowered his bow and sighed. They were too short to be Ryan, and he ran forward to check on Jeremy. The lad was clumsily holding his sword, almost letting it dangle in loose fingers. The other hand was pressed tight to his chest, and he hissed sharply when Gavin tried to touch it.          

“I think it’s broken,” he said, voice rough and cracking. He cleared his throat, wincing, but it didn’t help.          

“What happened?” Michael crowded into his space, grabbing the wounded hand with surprising care. He examined it quickly, apologizing softly at every gasp and groan the other man made. Definitely broken.          

“Ryan, or whatever the hell that thing is, crushed it. Nearly choked me out afterwards.”          

“Shit, man,” Michael swore.          

“Jeremy!” Gavin cooed softly.          

“I’m fine.” He coughed again. “Okay, that’s a lie. But Ryan stopped it.”          

“What?” Gavin asked, tilting his head in confusion.          

“I don’t exactly know what happened, but it was definitely Ryan again at some point. He’s in there still.”          

“So what the hell is the other thing?” Michael asked, looking over his shoulder as if Ryan was going to suddenly appear. He wouldn’t put it past him, the dramatic bitch.          

“It’s the Ender Dragon.”          

“How? We killed it.” Gavin asked, eyes wide.          

“I don’t fucking know! But it’s pissed and it’s coming after us.”         

And then there was a crackling, a sudden flash of purple fire. One of the trees next to Gavin exploded into flames, splintering and burning bright. Behind it stood Ryan, manic smile showing off razor sharp teeth.          

“Correction,” they said in that enigmatic voice of theirs. “We’re already here.”

…

Geoff ran a hand through his hair. And he did it again. And again as he paced back and forth in front of Jack. The mouth of the mine was damp and cold and quiet. So damn quiet. Why couldn’t he hear anything? He needed to hear something.          

The lads were smart. They’d get somewhere safe. And then, then what? They’d be hunted down, he knew it. That monster outside would find them, hurt them, kill them. The thought alone nearly made him choke.          

He couldn’t stay there; he had to do something. He needed to save them.          

Jack sighed, wiped a hand down his face and tugged slightly on his beard. “Geoff, you need to calm down.”          

“No. I can’t. We need to do something, anything!”          

“I know, but you need to-”          

“Don’t!” He yelled, stopped pacing and stared down at Jack. “I have to do something. He’s gonna hurt them.”          

“I know, but-”          

“Then how can you be so calm?” He was hysterical, could feel the panic grip his chest like a vice.          

“Because one of us has to be!” Jack shouted back. Geoff flinched, stunned by the sudden anger. “Because you’re freaking out instead of thinking! Because I’m trying to fix this!”          

“What the fuck am I supposed to do then?” He screamed. And he could feel the hot prickle of tears in his eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to be fine. Everything was supposed to get better when they got home, not turn into the biggest damn shit-storm they’d ever seen.          

Everything was supposed to stop falling apart.          

They stared at each other for a long moment, the oppressive silence louder than any of the things they could have yelled. Both looked wrecked and worried and spent. Neither made a move towards the other, just stood silently panting until Jack finally took a deep breath.          

“You could help for once in your life.”

…

The dragon strode forward, the lingering fire raising up to kiss them as they passed. If it hurt any, they didn’t flinch, didn’t show it on their face at all. The lads moved back, the two warriors instinctively moving to block Gavin. His bow was raised, but his hand shook, his aim off and unsteady.          

Because it was Ryan, wasn’t it? Deep down, somewhere, it was his friend. And he couldn’t hurt Ryan.          

The dragon watched them with hungry eyes. “Now, tell me. Who should I go for first? The one who killed me? Or the one who’s blade still has my child’s blood on it?”          

They faltered, stood unsure suddenly, and took a step backwards. And Ryan looked at them desperately. But with a snarl he was gone again, and the dragon opened its mouth wide, and then cracked it even wider. There was clicking, the same damn clicking that Gavin was sure was going to be in his nightmares for ages, and then finally fire.          

The warriors dived to the sides while Gavin stumbled backwards. Everything was hot and bright and awful as the trees around them began to burn. They were going to burn up the whole forest if they weren’t careful.          

The archer recovered, dragged himself off the ground. Michael was already up, and he squared up with the beast. In one swift motion, the creature jumped forwards, long talons hooking into the warrior’s arms. He screamed and the dragon hummed happily. And it beat its great black wings and Gavin swore. It’s was going to take off.          

“Not with my boi, you don’t,” Gavin cried, letting a small volley of arrows lose. They carved through the air and torn through the thick webbing of the dragon’s wings. There was no victorious cheer this time as he continued perforating the wings.          

Jeremy bounded forward as the last of the arrows hit, using his full weight to knock the dragon over. They rolled, a tangle of limbs as they struggled for dominance. Jeremy won though, put the tip of his sword to Ryan’s throat and-          

And he froze, because Ryan was smiling up at him sadly, hands loosely holding the blade. If he were to push, he’d offer no resistance. And his eyes were blue and _it was Ryan._           

“Please,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Please Jeremy.”          

His hand shook, but he nodded. Ryan nodded back, closed his eyes, and took a breath.

…

Geoff took a deep breath, because really, what else could he do? Jack was right; he was always right. Freaking out wasn’t doing any good, was it? No one needed a scatter-brained maniac. They needed a leader.          

He had to be a leader.

…          

“Persevere, Hatchling. We’ve not come this far for you to give up so easily.”

…          

He pushed himself to his feet, brushed the worst of the dirt from his pants. Jack watched him curiously, and the leader turned to him with bring eyes.          

“Alright.”          

“Alright?”          

“Yeah, alright. It’s time to do something. I need a bow, or a sword. And you need to get your bag. We’ve got to find the lads and stop Ryan and we sure as fuck aren’t doing that by staying here. Let’s go get our boys back.”          

And Jack smiled as he rose too.

…

As Jeremy pushed down, the hands around the blade tightened and forced it back. Ryan’s face was confused a moment, then a wave of despair hit him. He whined as his body acted without him, wrenching the weapon from Jeremy’s hands. It was thrown to the side, and then so was the lad.          

The dragon tossed him aside, and he hit against a tree with a loud crack. Ryan winced as the dragon flooded his senses again.          

“You’ve got to stop,” He screamed, stuck inside their head again.          

The dragon rose, swinging its head around until it spotted Michael, sword raised and ready. “They killed one of our children. Would you so easily excuse this?”          

“He didn’t know!”          

“He murdered them!” The dragon roared, and Michael readied himself to charge.         

“He doesn’t know they’re not monsters.”          

Michael charged, and the dragon braced himself. The diamond blade rose high and its song was intoxicating. The dragon bared its teeth, and its claws were ready to meet the warrior dead on.          

And then he veered off course and Gavin’s arrow hit them square in the shoulder. They hadn’t seen him behind Michael, and his gaze was hard as he readied another arrow. The dragon dodged easily this time, the arrow disappearing into the brush behind them.          

They hissed in pain as the arrow was jostled. Reaching up, they clumsily snapped the shaft, keeping it short to avoid further disturbance. Moving their arm hurt like hell, but they fought through it as Michael charged again.         

They caught the lad roughly, feeling his sword bite into their side. But they dig their claws in as well, and in one swift motion, sunk their sharp teeth into his shoulder. He screamed, and the dragon went to pull back, to tear off a chunk of his flesh.          

Ryan surged forward and opened his mouth, pulling away just as Michael’s sword slashed. He caught on his arm, felt the scales catch the blade and protect him. He fell back, knocking his wings against the rough bark of a tree. They fluttered weakly and some far off part of him wondered what the damage would translate to if he could turn back.          

“Michael,” he said, voice weak.          

“I know,” the warrior nodded, and there was a tremor of something in his voice. He didn’t want this, no one did.          

“This was never supposed to happen. No one was supposed to get hurt. I need you to know that.”          

“I know,” the lad repeated, and Ryan ignored the wetness in his eyes as much as Michael ignored it in his.          

“I’m sorry.”          

He swung the sword, and it meet the hardwood of the tree, but not Ryan. The dragon ducked down, and kicked their long leg out. Michael’s feet were swept out from under him, and he landed in a jumble in the floor. The sword remained in the tree, waiting.          

The dragon stood, and brought his foot down heavily on Michael’s chest. He wheezed under the pressure, and clung to the creature’s ankle. They held him down as he squirmed. And then they snapped their head up and raised their wings as Gavin fired. The arrow caught the wings again, glancing off the bone above the webbing. Without hesitation, they reeled back and let loose another plume of enderfire at Gavin. The creeper-clad lad danced away easily, but there was enough burning between them to cut him off. He cried out, and started frantically pacing on the other side, but there was nothing more he could do.          

It was just Michael and the dragon.          

“I wanted to believe,” the dragon started, “that you people were different. And for a moment there, I almost did. I saw compassion, tenderness, and intelligence, restraint. But then you,” they put more pressure on Michael’s chest, and he swore as he felt something pop. “You struck down one of my own when they’d done nothing wrong. You killed an innocent creature, you monster.”         

“Hey asshole, you done monologuing yet?”          

Ryan cheered inside as the dragon looked up and locked eyes with a one Geoff Ramsey. His sleepy blue-gray eyes were bright and alert and blazing. And his head was held high, shoulders back, bowstring taught. Jack stood next to him, ax shining in the purple glow of the enderfire. Ryan could have cried; he was so excited.          

Geoff’s arrow skimmed their side, just below the cut from Michael’s sword. The dragon roared, and Geoff calmly fired again. The dragon hissed as it took another hit to their wings, the appendages fluttering lamely. They stepped back, off of the warrior, and swayed slightly. Ryan struggled to come forward, choked back as the dragon refused to give. He didn’t need much,

just one moment, one hesitation.          

Michael saw his opening.          

The lad sprung to his feet, ignoring the cries his body gave as his wounds were pulled this way and that. Clumsy arms, glossy red with blood, fumbled until they found the hilt of his sword. It took all the force he had left to wretch it from the tree and he raised it high.          

Ryan took a breath.          

He brought the blade down, felt it catch, and then he forced it across the other man’s chest. From shoulder to hip, a red line bloomed. And there was so much blood on both of them as Ryan swayed, slumped forward to his knees. He looked up at Michael, eyes impossibly blue, and the warrior fell in front of him. He wrapped arms around the gent’s shoulders, pulling him forward to lay against his chest. And he muttered apologies into his ear as Ryan tried to assure him it was fine.          

The world was impossibly quiet again, that odd ringing taking place of everything else. And everything was fuzzy on the edges, dark and cold. But there was Michael, and he was saying something. Ryan really wished he could figure out what it was. There was a faint pulling at his arms, and he was dimly away that the black scales were melting away. His claws shrank back and paled. The great wings on his back folded up, disappeared into his back again.          

Clumsily, his hand found Michael’s as the rest of the world slipped away.

…

“I’m not letting you go that easy, Asshole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're halfway done!   
> Chapter 10 came together so much easier then some of the other recent ones, and I've pumped to start working on the next few.  
> I think chapter 12 will probably include my all time favorite scene that I've had written since basically the very beginning.


	11. Chapter 11

There was a peal of thunder.          

Geoff ran forward, throwing his bow to the ground. If it caught fire and burned away, he didn’t care. _Ryan first._ Jack was right behind him, already sliding his pack off his back. The clink of glass told him that the other man was already shuffling bottles to find what he needed.          

There was too much damn blood. God, he forgot how much there really was in people sometimes. Michael held tight to Ryan, knuckles white as he fisted hands in what remained of the man’s shirt. It was torn to absolute shreds and the skin peeking out was soaked red. _Too familiar, too real._           

“Michael, I need you to let go.” Jack laid his hand gently on the lad’s shoulder, but he didn’t move. All they could hear were frantic apologies as he hugged Ryan’s pale form close.          

“Michael,” Geoff tried. “Michael, hey. I need to help Ryan.” No response. “Michael, can you tell me if he’s breathing?”          

“I’m sorry. I had to. I’m sorry.”          

“Is he breathing?”          

“I need to see his chest. Michael, you need to let go.”          

Geoff moved in, prying Michael off. The lad choked back a scream as Ryan slumped forward, caught easily by Jack’s strong arms. A hand carded its way through Michael’s hair, pulled him close to Geoff’s chest in a rough hug. He clung, much like he had to Ryan, and continued his frantic apologies.          

Jack got to work quickly, turning the fallen gent until he lay on his back. The rest of his shirt was discarded, and god did that just makes things worse. The smell of blood hung heavy over all of them as Jack looked for something, anything to show there was still something to save.         

But he was still, lips slightly parted and eyes softly closed. Geoff watched closely, trying

to find the faintest of flutters in the other man’s mangled chest. It was hard, and his stomach twisted painfully as he took it all in. “C’mon, I’m not letting you go that easy, Asshole.”          

And there it was, a spasm as he took a shallow breath, and Geoff could have cried right then and there. It was the smoke in his eyes. Just the smoke.          

Jack sprang into action. There was a splash potion dumped unceremoniously on is torso, the cuts on his side, the deep gashes down his arms. He didn’t react, didn’t stir.  Geoff tightened his grip on Michael.          

With a great deal of effort, he tore his eyes away and looked around. The fire wasn’t spreading too fast, but the trees right around him were broken and blackened and burning bright purple. They’d have to act soon to stop the whole forest from being engulfed.

He could hear Gavin somewhere, talking softly. _Jeremy._ He hadn’t seen the other lad, the last thing he could really remember was running, leaving him behind. He hadn’t seen him run. Had he run? _Please, god, I hope he ran._

_No more,_ he thought.

…

The creeper-clad lad had Jeremy in his lap, inspecting a cut along the back of his shaved head. It was deep, the blood rushing freely down his skin, coating his hands and soaking into his shirt. His scarf sat bundled to his side, hopefully clean of blood. The thought of losing it again hurt after all the work Michael had put into fixing it.          

He’d woken up at some point during the fight, Jeremy faintly recalled. Blearily, he remembered watching Gavin get cut off from the others by a wall of fire, watching Michael struggled on the floor, watching Geoff come back for them. And then it faded, and when he opened his eyes it was to Ryan falling forward, a crumpled heap in Michael’s arms. He’d wanted to help, but his body felt heavy and thick and stuck to the ground. Uselessly, he’d watched with unfocused eyes as everyone else worked, Gavin cooing in his ear. When exactly he got there, the lad didn’t know. His tired mind didn’t have answers, or anything to fill in the blanks with, so he simply watched the quick flames of enderfire as it danced closer.

There was a peal of thunder somewhere above the ringing in his ears.

…

It was a carefully practiced routine and he ran on auto-pilot as he worked to stop the bleeding. He tried to block out anything, everything, except Ryan. And he didn’t look at his face, couldn’t look at his face, couldn’t handle the pale cheeks and closed eyes, and sweat soaked brow.          

_Stop, focus, breakdown later._           

The main concern was the cut that ran from shoulder to hip. It was deep, and he tried not to think about how much worse it could have been if there had been a little more force in the swing. But the edges were clean, and if he could get the damn bleeding under control things would be okay.          

_Keep calm._

The health potion did little to actually help. They were designed for small wounds, scraped knees and shallow cuts. They were good for managing pain, and in the End, they’d taken the edge off enough for Ryan to calm down. They couldn’t do much against this. Maybe with time Ryan could figure out a more potent brew, but that’d have to wait until he was better.         

_If you manage to save him._

Shaking his head slightly, he cast the thought aside, turned back to his work. Applying pressure wasn’t doing much and he added more cloth to try and help. There was going to be stitches and god the scar was gonna be terrible. But there wasn’t any helping that. He’d just need to learn to live with it.         

_If._

…

The rain started slowly, the first few drops falling gently over the city. It grew, a crescendo as the streets filled with puddles and the roof protected the people sleeping soundly inside. And the then skies fully opened and it poured heavily. The early morning was thick with is, and no one could really tell when the sun started to rise.          

It always rained on day two.

…

Everyone ended up at Geoff’s house. Jack immediately locked himself away in a bedroom somewhere, threading a needle and stitching Ryan up. His ax sat by his side, heavy and out of place in their makeshift clinic. But they couldn’t risk it. What if he wakes up? What if it wasn’t Ryan?”         

Geoff took over watching the lads. Jeremy was bundled up in a bed, staring blankly as the leader wrapped up his broken hand. The health potion he’d given him was maybe a little strong, and the lad didn’t really seem to register any pain. It was for the best, Geoff knew. The poor bastard had been through enough.          

Dark bruises painted his neck, and he tried to ignore how much they looked like hands. He’d need to get the full story from someone eventually, soon hopefully. And he’d want to know exactly what Ryan- _that thing_ \- had done to his boys. And at some point he’d have to figure out if he wanted to kill the other gent or give him the world’s biggest hug.          

Of course, he’s have to figure out exactly what the fuck was happening to Ryan in the first place.

…          

Gavin took care of Michael. After the fires died down and they’d been reunited, the lads hadn’t left each other’s side. Michael had been quiet the whole time, numbing following the creeper-clad lad the whole way home.          

The bite on his shoulder would be a pain to deal with. It’d been cleaned and the bleeding stopped, but the risk of infection was high. They’d have to watch it the next few days, just to make sure everything was healing fine. The claw marks on his arms and shoulders were better, wrapped and hidden away. He struggled to breathe around his broken ribs, but he refused to let that stop him.          

They’d relegated themselves to the living room, a barely furnished place near the front of the house. Most of the rooms were like that, bare and uninviting. After all, they were rarely used since Geoff spent most of his time running amuck with everyone else.          

It felt too quiet.          

“Micool,” Gavin whined when he couldn’t take the stillness any longer. “If you clean your sword anymore, it’s gonna disappear Micool.”          

The warrior had probably wiped down his blade a hundred times since getting patched up. And while it glistened and gleamed and there wasn’t a speck of anything left on it, it still seemed like the dirtiest thing in the world. So he huffed at Gavin and ran the rag over it again.          

“Michael, please, you need to stop.” There was such care in his voice, such concern, and it made him angry. How dare he care about him still, after what he’d done, after who he’d hurt. How dare he still look at him like he hung the moon. How dare he be so calm and collected when Michael felt like ripping out his hair and screaming.          

He’d had to do it though, he knew that. That _monster_ would have killed them. Hell, Ryan had asked him to do it! And maybe that was the worst part. If it had just be any old monster, then killing it would have been nothing. But it was Ryan and they’d worked so hard to get him back in the first place.          

“Michael-” Gavin’s hand landed tenderly on his arm, and that was it. The curly-haired man suddenly threw the sword away like it was red-hot. It clattered loudly on the stone floor and Gavin flinched back. Michael swore and felt the first tears break forward and run down his cheeks.          

He racked his hands through his curls and ducked down into himself. “Stop Gavin! Please, just stop!” There was nothing he wanted more than to just disappear, get away from the things he’d done and just breathe. But he couldn’t, and the air got stuck in his throat and he wanted to scream but he couldn’t push past the blockage.          

Gavin sat back, retracted his hand like he’d been struck. Sad eyes turned away from Michael and focused intently on the discarded blade just out of reach. Michael seemed to fold in on himself more, bury his face in his hands, looking small, terrified, familiar.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured after a minute. “It’s not your fault you had to act. Everyone understands that. Ryan will understand that.”          

“Ryan-” Michael tried, but the words broke into a sob before he could stop them.          

With a sigh, Gavin leaned over, resting his head on Michael’s shoulder. The other man stiffened, but didn’t pull away. “He won’t be mad. If anything, he’ll be proud of you. He knew what needed to be done.”          

“It’s my fault! It’s my fault we’re gonna lose him again.”          

“He’ll be okay with it.”          

“How the fuck do you know that?”          

“Because he was okay with it before.” Gavin took a deep breath, ran a hand across Michael’s back, soft motions across rough fabric. “I got him hurt, back with the dragon. I didn’t move and he had to save me. And you know what? He was just happy that I was okay. He wasn’t even mad a little bit.  Out of everyone, he thought it should be him. So he won’t be mad, Michael, because you protected everyone else.”          

Michael sniffed, wiped angrily at the tears running down his face. “I feel like shit though.”         

Gavin laughed, mirthless and cold. “I get that one. But you can’t let yourself feel guilty. You did what you had to do.” They sat quietly for a beat, Gavin slipping his free hand into Michael’s. “Word of advice? Go visit when you can. Talk to him and tell him how you feel. He’ll want to see you too.”         

Michael wiped at his eyes again, took a couple of deeps breaths to try to stop the shaking in his hands. Warriors didn’t cry; Michael didn’t cry. But Gavin’s care and his compassion made him feel so damn human. And humans most certainly cry.          

He leaned over, laid his head against his best friend’s chest, and let Gavin wrap him in his arms. He let his rub his back, coo sympathy and reassurance in his ear, chase away the melancholy he drowned under.          

And he let it all feel light, familiar, safe.

…          

It was a long time before anyone heard anything. It was a long time before Jack came out of the bedroom, wiping his red-stained hands on a cloth. It was a long time before he was cleaned up and ready to talk.          

No one was really ready to listen.        

He was sure, he said, that Ryan would live. He’d be weak, and in pain, and no matter what, he wasn’t allowed out of bed.  But he was alive. He shouldn’t be, he should have died in a puddle of his own blood in the woods, but he hadn’t. Like the last time, he’d miraculously pulled through.          

And now they knew, sort of. No one could really explain what had happened. Michael knew he’d seen an Endermen hovering around Ryan’s house. He’d killed it to stop it from hurting anyone. He thought he was helping. And they knew that it was Ryan they’d fought in the forest. The few moments of clarity were painfully obvious, and Jeremy was certain that Ryan had tried to stop whatever was inside him from killing him. And according to Jeremy, that whatever was the Ender Dragon.        

So how the fuck did that happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. This chapter gave me some trouble, since it's essentially a bridge chapter. Also, after chapter 12, things might go a little slower. I've basically used the last of my prewritten scenes from the planning phase, and while I have an idea of what I want to happen, I have to build these things from scratch. Nonetheless, we're heaing towards the End now!


	12. Chapter 12

It was a long while before Ryan woke, though that might have been partly Jack’s fault. He needed rest, they all did. If a few sleeping draughts went missing, no one felt particularly moved to mention it.         

The house was quiet, the bed warm but unfamiliar. Soft pillows surrounded him, and he couldn’t be bothered to move them. He was numb and he silently thanked Jack for that one. The stiff bandages crisscrossing his torso and arms hid the worst of everything from him. Lord knows it would be agony when the potions wore off.          

Hazily, he looked around. Thick curtains were pulled tight against the summer sun, keeping the room dark and cool. There wasn’t much else, a mirror hung over a small desk, an empty bookshelf tucked in a corner. Geoff really wasn’t one to decorate.          

Faintly, the dragon hummed, and Ryan did his best to ignore them.          

The door clicked open, and it took far too long for Ryan to roll his head over and see who it was. And it was Gavin! With eyes too green too be human and sandy hair with far too many hues. And he smelled like sunshine and sea breeze and it made Ryan relax into the bed a little.          

There was enderfire between them, an arrow drawn, something shouted.          

He tried to blink away the memory, but every time he closed his eyes he could smell the

smoke and feel the heat. And there was so much blood on everyone.         

“He’s awake.” Gavin called softly over his shoulder. There was a commotion in the hall, too many voices and too much noise. He winced, rolled his head again to get away from it.          

His chest rumbled, and there was a weak growl from deep in his throat. He coughed, cast a dark glare to no one in particular. The shuffling outside stopped, but he could hear them all breathing, heard their hearts beating quickly. _They’re scared of me,_ he thought.          

“They’re scared of us.” The dragon bit back.          

“Ryan,” someone- Geoff- said, and he looked back over. All five men stood crowded in his small room, and he hated it. Dark marks in the shape of his hand on Jeremy’s throat, bandages peeking over the collar of Michael’s shirt, traces of burns alone everyone. Worst of all, concern splashed over each face. _They’re worried_ , he thought with wonder.

“They’re waiting for us to attack again,” the dragon said, voice loud inside Ryan’s head.         

“Geoff,” Ryan replied, voice hoarse and cracked. Everyone seemed to sag at that, relaxing with the knowledge that he was back. It was Ryan.          

Geoff didn’t wait, jumped straight into business. There wasn’t the old kindness in his eyes, the same familiarity and love. He was cold, arms folded against his chest and he placed himself between Ryan and the others. “I wanna know what happened.”          

“You can’t interrogate him right now. Give him a minute,” Jack protested.          

Ryan sighed and he shuffled up the bed, forcing himself to sit up. As quietly as he could, he gasped around the pain of pulling his wounds, white hot flashes dancing across his chest and side. Jack moved forward, but Geoff planted a hand firmly on his chest, holding him back. No one else moved. No one else looked sure of themselves.          

He took a deep breath, ignoring the way his chest fluttered with every move and stared blankly at the wall in front of him.          

“I came to him in the End and gave him a second chance,” the dragon spoke, enigmatic voice out of place on Ryan’s lips. He tensed, but the creature continued. “What more is there to say?”          

Geoff glared. “I want to talk to Ryan.”          

“He can hear us.”          

“Ryan.”          

“I died,” Ryan spoke, choking back the dragon. “It’s fucking weird to say it, but I did. I wasn’t scared, I should have been, but I wasn’t. It just sort of happened. But I remember everything.          

“I remember being worried about you and Gavin. I didn’t know if you guys were safe or not, if you’d gotten hurt. I didn’t know if I’d done enough. And I was worried about the others too, because I couldn’t see them. I didn’t even know when the dragon died. But I needed to know if you were all okay.          

“I was scared of losing you more than I was of dying.”          

“And then I came,” the dragon hummed. “And there was enough life left in me for a deal. There was a way for us to both live.”          

“A way where I didn’t have to lose you all.”          

“A way for me to leave the End.”          

“We made a deal. We’d combine our souls, we’d leave the End together.”          

“And,” the dragon purred, “eventually, when we felt the time was right, I was to assume primary control over our body. It would be my recompense for your murder.”          

“But no one was supposed to get hurt,” Ryan pleaded, eyes wide. “That was part of the deal. No harm, not while-”         

“I am able to prevent it,” the dragon finished. They’re eyes flicked to Michael, and they glared. “But then _you_ killed one of my children. I had to watch them die.”          

“You didn’t know,” Ryan interjected, eyes soft again. “You couldn’t have known.  It’s not your fault.”          

“He’s guilty.”          

“I never told them! This is my fault, not theirs. I could have stopped all this if I’d told them.”          

“Someone has to pay for the bloodshed.”          

“I tired.”          

The dragon recoiled, and Ryan finally dragged his head up and met eyes with the group. They looked pale, stricken, and worried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just didn’t want to leave, not yet.”         

There was a pregnant pause where no one took a breath. Jack had moved forward, a hand resting lightly on Geoff’s shoulder. The leader had dropped his arms, standing with mouth tight and eyes empty. The lads were huddled in the back. Gavin looked more confused than anything while Jeremy kept going from angry to concerned to confused and back again. Michael looked ready fight, fists at his side and teeth clenched.          

As the silence grew, Ryan started to fidget. He ran a hand through his hair, picked at the bandages on his arms. And he chuckled nervously. “Anyone gonna say anything or…?”          

“Dude, that was creepy as fuck,” Jeremy breathed, and suddenly all the tension in the room snapped. Ryan laughed, high and hysterical and hard enough that Jack finally pushed forward to make sure he didn’t pop a stitch.          

He took a couple of deep breaths, leaning back against the multitude of pillows as pain spasmed through his chest.          

“Ok, wait,” Geoff interjected. “What exactly did you do?”

“I royally fucked myself.”          

“So how do we fix this? How do we separate you two?”          

The dragon sat straight up, eyes dark and pupils slits. The growled, barred their teeth. Jack jumped back, a potion bottle falling from his hands and crashing to the floor. Geoff drew his sword.          

“You are not taking him from me,” the dragon hissed. They wheezed slightly, twitching through the pain.          

“I’m not asking you,” Geoff shot them a glare.          

“We had a deal.”          

“You broke that deal.” Geoff leveled the tip of his sword at the dragon’s throat, holding it there. The beast looked up the blade at him, angry and tense. Geoff’s eyes were cold, serious, filled with too many blues and greys pooled together to make sense. “You broke any deal you may have had when you hurt my boys. So I will ask one time; how the fuck do we undo you?”          

They were silent, defiant, and the steel drew a bead of red that ran down their neck. They growled again, but Geoff didn’t falter. The two beings stared at each other for a long while, and finally the dragon spoke.          

“In much the same way that we came together. Death.”

…          

That night was rough, to say the least. Nights were always rough.          

When he was with the others, (and he always was, even if no one spoke to him) the dragon was dormant, sulking in the background of his mind. But as soon as the door closed and the silence fell, they came alive. He could feel them coiling tighter and tighter and the pressure in his head and heart grew steadily. His hands shook, his breathing uneven and ragged, and he couldn’t sleep.          

Sleeping felt too close. They mixed in their dreams and the line where Ryan ended and the dragon began blurred. It was too much, the dreams they shared, of hands around throats and teeth in flesh and a helplessness as they struggled against one another.         

They’d never fought so hard before. He’d never hated them so much before.

He didn’t tell the others. He didn’t have the right to look to them for help. After all, he’d caused this. He’d asked for this. They’d already been through so much because he was weak, pathetic, selfish-         

“There is no selfishness in self-preservation. There is no shame in wanting to live.”          

Ryan didn’t respond.          

“We’ve returned to this then?”          

Nothing.          

“Hatchling, be reasonable.”          

Silence.          

“If you will not speak, you will listen!” The dragon roared, the sound deafening in Ryan’s head. He brought his hands up to cover his ears. “You did what you had to do to survive. You clawed yourself from death and came away stronger for it. There is nothing to hate in that.”          

Ryan buried his face in his hands, drew a shaky breath, and said nothing.          

“We came away stronger. Think of what we could accomplish together.”          

But there was blood everywhere, a forest on fire, a rampage. There was death and destruction and mayhem. And it was his fault. He’d brought the beast back with him. He’d let himself become a monster.          

“We are not a monster. Monsters are violent, malicious, and mindless. We are something more, something powerful.”          

 _Something evil._           

“We are not evil!” The dragon screamed and Ryan sat straight up. “If we are so awful, then I should have left you in the End! I should have let you die in the dirt, surrounded by those you’d left behind.”

“I wish you had,” Ryan snapped back and the dragon roared. And Ryan roared back, loud and broken and a culmination of all his rage and misery.          

The whole house stirred.

…

 

Looking back, the five of them had never heard Ryan shout quite like that before. Sure, he’d raised his voice, and there had been angry outburst and cried and occasionally he’d give a small terrified scream. This was different and it was heart-stopping.

It was the kind of bone-jarring scream you can feel build in your stomach, twisting it into knots. It makes your blood boil and your fist curl. And when the cacophony reaches a fever pitch in your head, the pressure valve set offs and it all comes out in a wordless cry.          

They heard it from the living room where they’d gathered to discuss the events of the past few days. Gavin was mid-sentence when it rang out. Immediately, all five heads swiveled to look for the cause, but they knew exactly who it was. Jack tore off first, fearing for the safety of his patient, and the others followed close. Michael nearly tore the door from its hinges as he barreled in, sword drawn and ready to act.          

There were no enemies to fight, no battles to win. It was just Ryan, leaning forward heavily, the bandages around his chest turning dark as his wounds opened up again. His breathing came in ragged gasps and tears made their way down his scruffy cheeks. Hair was disheveled and fell in odd ways around his face. There was no fire or life in his eyes, jut empty blue.          

The visible scars on his back were dark, painting lines where gashes had been. For the first time, Geoff understood the full extent of what Ryan had gone through to save them, to save him. Geoff swore, if he could help it, Ryan wouldn’t get anymore scars saving his friends. He’d done enough, too much really. It was someone else’s turn.          

“Ryan,” Geoff called softly.         

The man in the bed looked up, seeming to finally notice the intruders. He gave them a weak, pitiful smile. “Sorry, uh, just had to get that out, ya know? I’m, I’m good now.”          

“That didn’t bloody well sound fine Ryan!” Gavin squawked, holding a hand to his chest as if it could stop his heart from leaping out of his chest.          

Ryan twisted his blankets in white-knuckled fists. His gaze dropped and his shoulders rose with tension. It was pitiful, Geoff thought. The man he’s witnessed laugh of sword swipes and arrowheads was just so broken right then. He really wondered if people could be torn apart so much, they became near unrecognizable. Surely the man in front of him wasn’t the same Ryan he’d known for years. Surely it was some kind of trick.          

Jack pushed past the still bodies around him, setting aside his thoughts on the matter to make sure Ryan wouldn’t bleed out in front of them. Michael couldn’t watch him change the bandages, and he took Gavin’s hand to drag him outside. The creeper-clad lad had no qualms to that and dutifully followed. Jeremy made no move to leave, hovering just inside the room with Geoff. Silently, the pair watched Jack cleaned Ryan up, straightened his hair, wiped the tears from his cheeks with a gentle thumb. If Ryan felt anything, he never showed it, just stared at the ground the whole time.          

“Get some sleep, okay?” Jack carefully pushed Ryan into the bed, tugged the blanket from his hands and pulled it up around him. Again, Ryan didn’t respond, just allowed himself to be moved. There was no hiding the pain in Jack’s face as he looked at his friend.         

Geoff cleared his throat. “Hey Rye-bread?” He paused to see if the injured man would look his way, and continued despite getting no response. “You don’t have to be okay right now, you know that, right? You’ve been through a lot, alone, and god knows I can’t even fucking begin to imagine what that’s been like. But we’re here now, and we can handle things for a minute so you can be not-okay, buddy.”          

Jeremy and Jack wavered for a moment before they headed out. Geoff stayed, eyes softly resting on Ryan, who still hadn’t moved. With a sigh, he crossed his arms and started towards the door. Just as he touched the knob, he heard it. Just the faintest sigh, but it was enough to turn him around. Ryan was pulling himself back up, leaning heavily against the headboard. And then the floodgates opened.          

And he sobbed.          

Geoff swept over to the bed, gathered him in his arms, rested his head atop Ryan’s. He’d comforted each of the lads before, and he’d been there for Jack too, whenever he could. But he’d never needed to be a rock for Ryan, not like this. And with the man cradled in his arms, he realized it was perhaps the first time in a long time that someone had held him. So he remained and he was a comfort and a constant.          

It was over in a moment, the sobs ebbing to sniffling and the violent shaking to sagging shoulder; Geoff didn’t pull away, but rather let Ryan tell him when to break the connection. He rubbed a hand on the wounded man’s back, feeling the raised details of his scars. Geoff tried not to shy away from those, forced himself to confront them head on and accept what had happened. It took too much to choke down the thought that he was the reason they existed.

“Sometimes,” Ryan mumbled softly after a while, still pressed against Geoff’s shoulder. “Everything is so loud that I feel like my head will explode.”          

“What do you do when that happens?”          

“Nothing. I just keep going. But I’m tired and everything hurts and it got so loud. I had to get it out.”          

“Did you?”          

“Now it’s just fuzzy, like, I feel like my teeth are vibrating.” Ryan almost managed to chuckle.          

“Are they quiet?”          

“For now. They’re tired too. We weren’t ready for those kind of changes yet. It was too much in too little time.”          

“You should get some sleep. We can work out all this tomorrow, together.”          

“There’s nothing to work on, Geoff. I don’t even know how to fix this. I mean, I do, but-”          

“We’re not going to kill you, Christ, Ryan! There has to be another way.”          

He bit his lip nervously. “I don’t know if I can do it again. All I could do was scream. I has zero control and they got so close to hurting all of you and I couldn’t stop them. Once was bad enough. I can’t do a round two.”          

“Ryan, you aren’t alone this time. We’ll figure this out and we will get you through this.” He dropped his voice low, almost to a whisper, and spoke more to himself then to the man in his arms. “Let me save you this time.”          

Ryan tightened his grip on Geoff’s shirt and pulled himself into the body around him. He’d always been a warrior, even in the games he’d played as a child. He prided himself on his ability to take hit after hit, to shrug off the pain and keep moving forward. And he’d always made sure the people he loved made it home at night. It was terrifying, the thought of letting go, of becoming someone who needed saving.          

But it was Geoff, holding out his hand, ready to carry him forward. Their leader, with his heart of gold, who’d never let him down before. Geoff, loud and obnoxious but full of love and pride. Geoff, whose arms were so damn strong and so damn warm and god it’ been so long since someone had held him.         

“I trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had the scene between Ryan and Geoff written since about day one of planning, and it's my absolute favorite thing. It really the main reason I started working on this story in the first place.


	13. Chapter 13

Michael was fascinated. He’d never really watched them before, not that closely at least, and they weren’t anything like what he’d expected. There were Endermen, tall and dark and creepy, in Ryan’s room, and he was smiling up at them as they wandered around. They hissed loudly, sometimes long, sometimes sharp, and often times over one another. But Ryan didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to listen intently, nodding occasionally or telling one to wait their turn.          

And it was fucking weird, Michael thought. These were monsters. These were creatures they’d hunted down and killed. Hell, they’d even used their eyes to open the portal to the End, and that was disgusting as shit. To see them so docile and relaxed and _happy_ was just too bizarre.          

But Ryan was happy. He’d been smiling since the first one showed up, and he looked so damn happy that no one had tried to do anything about them. _They’d even brought gifts, for fucks sake!_ He had gold and gems scattered across the bed, and if Michael had seen it right, there was a plum-sized diamond under his pillow. And now they were just talking, like old friends. Ryan was having a full-on conversation with a goddamn monster.          

It was fascinating.          

Michael hovered in the doorway, arms crossed as he leant on the frame. If anyone saw him, they didn’t say react, which was weird. He’d assumed the Endermen would scatter as soon as he showed up, but they hadn’t. And yeah, maybe that was Ryan’s fault. The monsters seemed so calm around him. Hell, even Michael felt a little comforted by his sleepy eyes and soft smile.          

Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little strange with them in the room. And sure, he could always come back later, but he didn’t know how long his nerve would last. Ryan wasn’t even mad at him, didn’t hold him responsible for anything, but fuck was it hard to be there. It was hard enough to convince himself to visit. He hadn’t really; Gavin was the one to put him on track. “I should have seen him sooner, the first time,” he’s said. “It was better after we talked,” he’d reasoned. “Sometimes you just have to say ‘sorry’ and move on,” he’d claimed before pushing Michael to the stairs. It didn’t make getting their any easier and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.          

“Stop pouting and come have a seat,” Ryan chided gently, not taking his eyes off the crystal in his hands. Common quartz, if Michael had to guess.

The gent moved over slightly, making room for Michael to sit next to him. He grimaced as his wounds pulled. The pain wouldn’t have been too bad, Michael tried to convince himself. Jack would have shoved enough potions into him to make sure he was fine. Still, it couldn’t fix everything, if the persistent sting in his shoulders was anything to go by. And Ryan was still cut open and sore. Moving always hurt, Michael knew that much.          

The Endermen jumped forward to help, nervous hands raised to help. They spoke quickly, their strange voices thick and unintelligible. Michael stepped forward before his mind realized what his feet were doing. There was a hand on his hip, fingers scrambling for the blade he’d left somewhere in his room. Ryan smiled up at them all, like he knew exactly what the creatures were saying, knew what was flashing through Michael’s head before he’d even processed it.          

“It’s okay guys. I’m alright,” he assured them, voice even and calm and so damn caring. Still, the Endermen hovered anxiously, hissing between themselves. They seemed unconvinced but none of them made any move to warp away.          

The warrior hesitated, but Ryan patted the empty spot next to him, eyes bright and shining as Michael finally relented and crossed the room to him. The bed dipped under his weight and he felt Ryan slide ever so slightly towards him. Neither one mentioned it. Neither mentioned how Michael leaned into it.          

“So, how’re you holding up?” Michael asked, cringing at how uncertain he sounded.          

Ryan chuckled, rolled the gem between his hands. “I’m alright. Been better, but…” He trailed off, humming deep in his chest.          

“You know, you sound like a cat.”          

The gent pulled a face, wrinkled his nose. “It’s kind of annoying.”          

“Lindsay would like it,” Michael tired and Ryan sighed.          

“I’m not a cat and it’s not purring. It’s…” He frowned, eyebrows scrunching as he looked for the right word.          

Michael gave him a pointed look, tried (and failed) to keep his face neutral as he teased. “I hate to break it to you, but it’s purring.”          

Ryan huffed, defeated, and they lapsed into an awkward silence. Michael looked away, suddenly very interested in the ceiling. Ryan hummed next to him, staring thoughtfully as he wrapped his hand around his treasure. They both ignored the stark white bandages around his hands, how his grip looked weak, how his fingers shook slightly.         

Another Endermen warped in and Michael took a deep breath.          

“Look, I wanted to apologize-”          

Ryan held up his hand with a weak laugh, cutting him off. “Please don’t. You’ve got nothing to be sorry over.”

“Bullshit!” Michael cried, albeit a little louder then he intended. Instantly, all the creatures stepped forward, long clawed hands raising. His heart skipped a beat, but Ryan waved them off. They froze, but they never stepped back.          

“Michael-”          

“Look at you! You’re not okay. You’re…” He left off with a sigh, feeling a vice tightened in his throat. Ryan balled his fists, white-knuckled around the coarse blanket on his lap. The bandages around his arms were almost hard to see against his pale skin. For fucks sake! The only part of him that wasn’t bound tight were his legs! The rest of him was just bruised, broken, _destroyed,_ Michael’s mind interjected helpfully and hated himself just a little for how easily it came out.          

But Ryan looked at him with those goddamn blue eyes of his, and there wasn’t the same vacant stare as a few nights ago. There wasn’t the same desperate pain that might haunt Michael forever. They were intense, warm, alive. And when he spoke, his voice sounded as strong as ever. “This wasn’t you.”          

He could almost believe everything was okay.          

“You can’t tell me that.”          

“And you can’t argue with me! I’m right Michael. This is my fault.”          

He could almost believe him. “Ryan-”          

“I made the deal.” He was firm, steady, hands finally releasing their death-grip on the blanket. He sat straighter, shoulders back and head held high. He almost seemed like himself again.          

“I killed the Endermen.”          

“Then apologize to them!” The gent threw his hands up, and Michael could practically hear his dumb grin. He couldn’t help but chuckle.         

“Would they even understand me?”          

Ryan shrugged, wiggled a hand in a noncommittal gesture. “Eh. They seem to understand me pretty okay. But I don’t know if that’s because of the dragon or not.”          

The lad was quiet a moment, staring off again as he chased a very Gavin-like thought. “Should I?”          

“Apologize?” Michael nodded. “I don’t know. They don’t seem bothered by it. To be honest, I’m not even sure they realize they’re gone.”          

“That’s pretty shitty.”          

Ryan chuckled. “Death is weird.”          

“Dude.”          

“What?” He laughed, raising his hands in mock defense. “Dying isn’t even that bad.”          

It was obvious he meant it as a joke, but Michael recoiled slightly, a frown across his face. “I hate that you know that.”          

“Me too, really.”          

They fell into silence again, each unsure of how to proceed. Finally, Michael cleared his throat, shifted to stand up. Ryan watched him with a frown, confusion knitting his brows together. If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn Ryan looked disappointed.          

“Anyways, you look like shit. So, uh, get some rest.”         

“Thanks.” The gent rolled his eyes before reaching out to grasp Michael’s arm for a moment. He definitely noticed how still his hands felt. “And uh, thanks for visiting. It helped. Helps.”          

The lad smiled, patted the gent on the shoulder, and left without another word.

…

Jeremy awoke to the sound of a window opening. Any other night, he would have rolled over and brushed it off, gone back to sleep. But after all the activity of the past few days, he forced himself up and went to look around. The hallway was quiet, all doors but one firmly closed. Ryan’s was opened just a hair, enough for moonlight to bleed onto the cold stone floor.          

He nudged it open carefully, quietly, and stepped in. Ryan didn’t react, just stared out his open window, the moonlight reflected on his pale face. He turned finally to address Jeremy, and those eyes were unmistakable. He regretted leaving his sword in his room.          

“Peace, I mean no harm,” the dragon said, turning fully to face their companion. “He was asleep, and I wanted some fresh air. He will have control again in the morning.”          

“You’re not gonna freak out and smash my hand again, are you?”          

“I haven’t the strength, nor the desire. I simply want a moment to exist beyond being a voice in his head.” They took a deep breath, smiling at the slight breeze drifting in through the window. There was a slight chill, the faintest hint that fall was coming.          

“I once told him that I was not angry at you all for killing me.” They spoke after a moment, turning away again to stare at the sky. “You were not the first to draw my blood. You will not be the last.”         

Jeremy shifted from foot to foot, rubbed at his neck with his unbroken hand. “You seemed pretty pissed when you tried to choke me out.” He stared at them, at the scratched on their cheek. Jack said they wouldn’t scar. He desperately needed them to not scar.          

“I helped save you once. I gave him claws to climb down the cliff when you fell. And before that, when the Archer nearly shot you. I didn’t think about what you had done, and he was so scared for you.”          

“I mean, thanks? But you did try to kill me later so…”          

The dragon hummed thoughtfully. “Not my best first impressions, I’ll grant you that. But I was grieving.”          

“Ryan was begging me to kill him.”

“I am not proud of that, nor of the distress I’ve caused him. I do not relish the things I have done either.” They paused, took another deep breath, laid hands on the windowsill. Jeremy didn’t ignore their shaking. “Dragons are selfish creatures. We do as we please, with little regard to others. Even now, I cannot pretend that I saved him for his own sake. I used him to get away from the End. I wanted freedom, and he provided a means to that end. I did not care for his feelings. And I felt nothing at the thought of one day stealing him away.”          

“Did he know that?”          

“I suspect so. He was calm in the face of death. He’d long accepted his fate. And my offer was clear. He knew it wouldn’t be forever, but to him, that was worth it. What is one death for another? All he wanted was a chance to say goodbye. I couldn’t understand it. I’d never loved anything enough to die for them.          

“He once told me he didn’t understand his own compassion for you all. There was so much love there with no explanation. But it was enough for him. I think I may finally understand it.          

“I did not feel love for the Endermen before you all came along. They were my servants, nothing more, nothing less. They were used to grow my hoard. And, if I am to be honest, I hated them. They could leave the End, and they told stories of blue skies and grassy hills and oceans beyond what one could see. I wanted it all so badly. I wanted that sun-kissed paradise I saw only through their eyes.          

“I am changed now. I am not jealous of the Endermen. They are good things, sweet things whose desire nothing but to bring gifts home to me. They are mine to protect, to look after and care for. I failed when the Warrior struck one down. And I listened to it scream and it looked to me for aid. I was powerless to help them. And I hated you all for making me feel so weak and small and _human._ I lashed out, dug up old grievances to fuel my rage. I broke my oath to avenge my child’s death. They were worth it.”          

The dragon sighed heavily, ran a hand along their chest, tracing the wound. For just a moment, Jeremy thought it looked guilty. “I thought it was worth it. But I am at odds with myself. _We_ are at odds. We’re connected in strange ways, entwined to the point where there is no clear division of self. His thoughts and feelings are mine, as are his memories and his faults. Mine are his as well.          

“It’s hard to hate you when I remember meeting you for the first time, thinking you fit so perfectly with the rest of us, wondering how we ever got along before. And it’s hard to hate you when your laugh reminds me there are good things in the world still. And it’s hard to hate you when you mean so much to me. I don’t even know how to feel anymore, but I am not proud of my actions.”

They turned again to face Jeremy and he couldn’t help but stare at the water in their eyes. They wiped their face, staring down as the tears clung to their fingers. And they chuckled, low and broken and sad. Jeremy wavered by the door, uncertain what to do.          

“I don’t understand you humans. You lie and you rob and you murder. Yet you so readily give up everything for those you deem worthy. You give yourselves fully to each other and trust them not to hurt you. You live and you love and you smile so often, it seems contagious. You find light where there should be none and hold so tight when it starts to dim. And you die for one another, and trade freedom for a final goodbye.”          

Jeremy shrugged. “We’re family. I’d do anything for them.”          

“Dragon’s don’t have families.”         

“Ryan does, and you’re part of that now. You said it yourself; you’ve got pieces of him. Which means you’ve got his capacity for compassion, and his stupid bravery, and that confusing need to protect. You can deny it all you want, but don’t stand there and tell me you don’t understand how much we mean to each other.”          

The dragon was quiet, still watching their hands. They were shaking, and the laced their fingers together to hide it. “I understand it. I feel it. And I hate it and cherish it in the same breath. I can’t even be angry you killed me! I’m overjoyed that you’re alright, that you walked away.”          

“I’m a little mad still. You tried to kill us, but I can get over that. You’re a dragon, we’re people, and it’s fair. But it’s what you did to Ryan that I don’t think we can forgive. You broke him.”         

“I never intended-”          

“I don’t care what you intended to do,” Jeremy interjected, voice raising as he stepped closer. “I don’t care how this affects you or how bad you feel. He asked me to kill him!” His voice broke at the last word, and he paused to control himself. He tried not to imagine Ryan under him, the press of his blade to his throat, how empty his eyes seemed. “I almost did.”          

The dragon touched their throat, ran a finger along the small cut there. It would heal just fine, no scar or lasting mark. One less reminder of the damage done. They looked up at him, eyes wide and nearly glowing in the dark. There was an intensity there, almost pleading as they stared into Jeremy’s.          

“So how do I fix this? How do I fix him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long pause between uploads. Holidays and vacations and work were all really crazy for a bit. But hopefully I can get back on track and get this baby finished soon! The new goal is chapter 20, but there's still a lot of things that need to happen to tie up everyone's story lines. And more light-hearted dragon shenanigans for sure!


	14. Chapter 14

Ryan was out of bed a week and a half later, and while it was only for small periods of time- Jack’s orders- the small bit of freedom did wonders. If things kept going well, he hoped to be back in his own home. As nice as the bed in Geoff’s house was, what with its soft pillows and warm blankets, he couldn’t help but miss the familiarity of his own room. Not to mention he could hear his hoard calling for him and he practically itched to check on it. The new gifts the Endermen had brought him would go nicely with everything else.          

It was early, the sun barely in the sky. He hadn’t slept again, or rather, he’d slept but it didn’t really feel like it. He couldn’t remember much, but the dragon shifted away at the thought. Regardless, he forced himself out of bed, pulled on his old worn boots, left his sword sitting by the door.          

Stepping outside was heaven. There was a slight chill on the air, leftover from the night before. Autumn was coming; he could smell the slight change in the world around him. It was crisp and new and the breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees. Faintly, above everything else, he could smell charred wood, and he swallowed the anxiety that bubbled up. He tries to focus on the better things; Jack’s garden ready for harvest, the promise of rain on the wind, the salt spray of the sea behind him.          

He could hear the others in their houses. They’d been released a couple days earlier, when someone had finally convinced Geoff they were okay. Gavin was awake, slowly moving around his lopsided house. Something smelled warm and fresh as the creeper-clad lad made his breakfast. Jack snored softly from his own bed, the sound muffled slightly by the distance. He needed the rest, lord knows he deserved it. It was unfair, Ryan thought, to ask him to do all he had. _There’s gotta be a way to pay him back._           

The rest of them were also asleep, except maybe Michael. His house was dead silent, and Ryan smiled when he realized the lad had probably headed into the city to be with his sweetheart. It wouldn’t be long before Lindsay moved into the square, he thought.          

Absentmindedly, he wandered away from the city. The plains stretched out before him, light hills rolling here and there, wildflowers peppering the landscape with bright yellows and reds. There wasn’t much out that way, although he could faintly recall there being some half-destroyed buildings in the distance. Remnants of some long forgotten projects of theirs, he was sure. But it was empty and peaceful and the sun rose higher and higher the longer he walked. Distantly, the dragon hummed and Ryan tried not to relax into how comforting it felt.          

But it was, at the end of everything. It felt good for the two of them to be relaxed and comfortable with each other. It felt right. He hated it, hated how easy it was to fall back into them. He should be angry, furious, betrayed. But he wasn’t. He was tired and sore to the bone and stretched thin. And it was so damn nice to let his guard down for just a second.          

He paused under a large tree, staring up at the sun through the thick layers of leaves. They hadn’t started to change yet, but he couldn’t wait until they started to blend into hues of red and yellow and golden browns. There was probably something to be said about the beauty of time and change or something, but he didn’t press it. He sat carefully, mindful of how moving still pulled at his injured, and stared out into the wide expanse of the world.

“We should probably talk, right?”          

The dragon shifted, seemed to sigh before it spoke into his mind. “If that’s what you would like, then I will listen.”          

Ryan shrugged. “I don’t really want to, but I know we should.”          

“I will listen,” the dragon repeated.          

He was quiet a moment, watching dappled shadows cross the grass as a breeze shifted leaves high above him. There was almost too much to say, too much to mull over and make sense of. But it had to be done, didn’t it? Words unspoken ended up being steps backwards and sleepless nights, and he’d had quite enough of both of those.          

“I wanna get back at you,” he said quietly, firmly, and the dragon recoiled. “I wanna hurt you like you hurt me.”          

“Hatchling,” the dragon tried, but Ryan cut them off.          

“We really fucked things up. _You_ really fucked things up.” His voice rose, and he paused briefly to calm down. “You fucked us up.”          

“Please-” They were cut off again.        

“Where do we even go from here? Like, how do you just walk away completely fine after that? How long do you get to break for?”         

The dragon shifted, and Ryan knew he ought to let them get a word in. The logical side of his brain urged him to hear all sides of the story, to gather all the facts and move from there. But he was tired, hurt, and stopping the words from tumbling out of his mouth felt damn near impossible. He didn’t really know if he could let himself stop. It was cathartic.          

“I want a timeframe. I wanna be able to circle a date on the calendar and say ‘I’ll be fine there.’ I want some goddamn quantifiable suffering!”         

“That’s not how it works,” the dragon managed, too small in the back of his mind, like they were hiding. And he could feel their anxiety in his chest, in his throat, in the pit of his stomach.

He took a deep breath, ran his fingers through the soft grass. Idly, he pulled a few blades, tearing and twisting them while he continued. “I know. It doesn’t make it easier, but I know.”          

Tentatively, the dragon crept forward, pressed against his will. But they didn’t move any further, holding still as Ryan reacted. It was strange to feel the dragon in his limbs but be able to move completely unrestricted. There was no fighting, no surge for control or fears of losing it. They just existed together, wholly and fully as one being.          

“I’ve got a choice now. I can hurt you, and we can keep trading blows. Or I can walk away and let this be it.”

“There’s a little too much to forgive and forget, right?” Ryan wasn’t even surprised it was his mouth moving, the dragon’s voice filling the quiet. It was softer, less booming and confusing and jumbled. They almost sounded normal.         

“At some point, someone has to take a hit and just take it. We gotta stop coming back for more.” He took his voice back smoothly, and they traded off equally.          

“What do you choose to do?”          

“I wanna move on and be done with this and just be okay.”          

The dragon nodded, crumpled up the grass in its hand. “Too many people have been hurt because of this”          

“Because of us.”          

They hummed, but whether it was Ryan or the dragon was unclear. But they hummed as they dropped mangled blades of grass from their hand and watched the wind spin them round and round. And they hummed as they sun painted shadows across their face. And they hummed as the entire world seemed to slow down for just a moment.

…          

It took too much effort to pull himself back to reality, and by the time he finally stood to leave, the sun was high. He shed the serenity and started home, hoping that maybe no one would see him come back. There’d be a lecture- there was always a lecture- and he just wanted to hold onto the sweet moment of calm for a minute more. The dragon didn’t speak, but Ryan felt them in his limbs as he walked. It was good, he decided, to have a soft moment together.          

His heart fluttered the same way it always did when he saw home. Everyone was out and about, their loud, happy voices greeting him before he saw them. The dragon smiled, and Ryan smiled, and they held off a happy moment before the dragon retreated. There was no place for them among the others, not yet.          

He entered the square, and Gavin’s happy cheer met him at the door. The lad was standing dead center, surrounded on all sides by half-built structures. They were basic- wood frames, stones thrown carelessly as flooring, dirt packed to act as walls. And there were gems that sung so beautifully in small, scattered piles. Jeremy poked his head out of one ramshackle hut, smiled broadly when he saw Ryan standing there, set aside the wood he was working with.          

An Endermen followed him out when he left, and the creature practically sung. It warped forward, reappearing next to Ryan in a blink. Its mouth twisted to a smile, teeth flashing dark and dangerous for a second. It chattered, too quickly from him to properly understand, but a few words stood out. _Play, build, together._

He blinked at them, and the creature looked back to Gavin, hissing and pointing incessantly. And it smiled again before warping away.          

“Someone wanna clue me in?” He asked, and the two lads made their way over.

Gavin was brighter than normal, his straw-blond hair catching the sunlight again. But then, so did the rough gemstones he’d tucked into his scarf. It took maybe a little too long for Ryan to pull his eyes away from them and he didn’t even register how loud the humming had gotten. It wasn’t his fault, he’d argue. Dragons can’t resist treasures.          

Jeremy was better, no gold or anything hidden away on his person. Just dirt, smeared across his face, and up his hands, and staining the ripped fabric around his knees. He smelled of earth, wet and cold, and the dragon danced in Ryan’s head. They thought of caves, deep and stretching, opening up to swallow them whole, to hold them forever away from the sun. They were happy thoughts, he knew. Memories of home.          

“Ryan, you didn’t tell us the Endermen were so lovely, Ryan!” Gavin cooed.        

“Didn’t I?” He replied automatically, frowning as he tried to process what was happening.

They were playing.          

With the Endermen.          

Like it was totally normal.          

“Huh,” he supplied intelligently and Jeremy snorted.          

“I think they were looking for you,” the bald lad explained. “I mean, so were we. You weren’t in your room.”          

“I took a walk. Needed a minute”          

Gavin scoffed. “You were gone for bloody hours! And Jack and Geoff went into town too! I got stuck with Lil J.”          

“You poor thing. That must have been torture.” Ryan rolled his eyes, but a small smile teased at his lips. The dragon chuckled, reverberating deep in his chest. The lads paused, and Gavin almost took a step back. Jeremy’s smile faltered, but he didn’t shy away.          

Ryan cringed, drew back a little, tried not to let black thoughts settle on him. It was a good day, he told himself. He was out, he was alive, and the Endermen were playing nicely with his friends.          

His friends were playing nicely with _them._           

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbed the back of his neck nervously. The dragon retreated again, curled up in some corner of his mind, small.         

“Don’t be,” Jeremy insisted, taking a half step forward to punch him lightly in the arm. “Surprised us, that’s all. They can stay, if they want.”          

Gavin looked like he wanted to protest when Jeremy shot him a look. And Ryan appreciated it, he really did. Some small part of him was giddy at the invitation, the permission to allow himself to blend softly with the dragon while the others were around. The dragon hummed thoughtfully, and pressed forward to speak.         

“Thank you, Wild One, but I don’t want to intrude. It is not my place.”

“If Ryan’s okay with it, you can stay,” Jeremy pressed, and Ryan was surprised.          

The dragon smiled. “I would rather not. Not yet, at least. But please, continue. The children would love if you kept building with them.”          

“Hey, yeah. How did that end up happening?” Ryan asked, slipping into control seamlessly, without even realizing it happened.         

Gavin blinked owlishly, cleared his throat. “They were looking for you, I think. And when that didn’t work, they started trying to put stuff in your room, like rocks and all.”          

“They do that lot, yeah.”          

“Yeah! So we wondered if you needed it for something,” Jeremy continued. “But I couldn’t think for what.”          

“I just asked them, plain as that.” Gavin beamed, quite proud of doing something no one else would think to do. “And then they started doing this. So we decided to help.”         

“You decided to help,” Ryan repeated, a note of confusion in his voice.          

“Well, I wasn’t about to make them do all the work, now was I Ryan?” The creeper-clad lad huffed in feigned annoyance.          

Ryan shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”          

Gavin snorted, indignant. And as if on cue, the Endermen blinked in, instantly reaching out to Ryan. He took their gifts without question or hesitation, smiling down at the smooth stones they’d brought. He passed them to Gavin, and one creature followed dutifully as the lad moved back to his projects. Jeremy nodded to the other, and the pair split off to their own hut. Ryan took a seat, leaned up against the sturdy walls of his house. It was cool in the shade, away from the high noon sun.          

The lads continued to build, sometimes running off to get new materials, sometimes showing the Endermen where to place something. And the dark, lanky beings passed to and fro readily, floating from task to task ad they built up their forts. And every now and then Gavin would laugh to himself, and Ryan could see the gears turn in the Endermen’s head, trying to figure out how to recreate the sound.          

Jeremy spent a long time getting things right. With one hand still broken, it took twice as long to do anything. And it had to be perfect. He wasn’t the type to half-ass his projects. The Endermen followed him, watching, waiting. And when Jeremy struggled to get a stone placed evenly between two others, the creature stepped tentatively forward. Ghost-light fingers brushed the stone, pulling it free and letting it hover in dead air. Then, carefully, it positioned it in the way Jeremy had tried to do, and let it sink into place. The lad cheered, clapped it heartily on the shoulder with a loud ‘Good job buddy!”          

“Do you think,” the dragon began tentatively, “that we could have made this work?”          

Ryan didn’t answer, watching clumsy Endermen blink in and out of existence. The one Gavin had been helping disappeared, and the lad looked upset for a moment went he realized his friend wasn’t there. He kept working, accepting new materials from a different creature, although he smiled just as brightly up at them as he had before. _Probably doesn’t know it’s not them_ , Ryan thought. He didn’t know when he could start telling them apart himself. They looked identical, and yet there was something about each one that stood out to him. In some way, they were as distinct and unique as his own friends were.

“Could I have found a place among your family?”         

“I don’t know,” Ryan answered truthfully. “I wanna say yes, but…”          

They hummed. “We could have been happy.”          

The Endermen was back, and they watched it slowly approached Gavin. He jumped slightly when it hissed in his ear, but his gasp morphed into a delighted little noise as the creature presented him his gift. Three bright emeralds hovered perfectly between eager hands. They weren’t perfect, pieces of earth and rock sticking out at odd angles, claw marks crisscrossing the surface where they’d grabbed them. But it hissed happily and Ryan caught a few quick snippet- something green, something same- and he smiled.          

Gavin reminded the Endermen of emeralds.          

“I am happy.”          

“There’s a ‘but’ here, isn’t there?”          

He bit their lip. “I’m happy, but moving on means we can’t stay like this.”          

Gavin’s Endermen let out a sharp sound and everyone looked up, bewildered. It did it again, bowing its head slightly, leaning forward. _Laughing._ It was trying to laugh like Gavin.          

“I want my body back.”         

Jeremy swore, and they looked over to see him up on his tippy-toes, arms resting on the top of his building. There was something up there, and the way he slapped the roof meant it was just out of reach. His tongue poked out between his teeth, brows knitted together as his fingertips brushed against it.          

“I want my life back.”          

The Endermen reached up next to him, standing full and tall, towering above the lad. It took nothing for it to extend its too long arm and wrap its strong hand around the object. And it pulled it down easily, let it drop next to Jeremy on the soft grass. It was just a piece of purple fleece, and Ryan pulled a face as he realized that meant there would be another purple and orange eyesore in the city soon.          

“I want to be me again.”          

“Hatchling,” the dragon tried, but Ryan sighed.          

“You should want it too. The deal’s off, so you don’t get to have my body. You’ll never be someone, just a weird voice in my head.”          

Jeremy’s Endermen smiled as the lad retrieved the fleece, beamed up at the creature even as he called them a “smug bastard.” They hissed happily, and quickly slapped him on the shoulder, smiling down in their strange way. Jeremy laughed, gave them a shove, and moved around to the other side of the structure.

They were silent a moment before the dragon brought their knees up, wrapped their arms around them. Ryan rested their chin there without a second thought.          

“I don’t want to lose what you have given me. I want this compassion and this selflessness and this love.” They swallowed heavily. “I don’t want to be a monster again.”          

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” Ryan breathed immediately.          

“But-”          

“We’re changed, right? Different in ways we can’t explain? I don’t even know where I end and you start. Maybe it won’t be such a clean break.”         

“Hatchling,” the dragon pleaded. “I cannot guarantee you’ll walk away from this. I will respawn, but you may not.”          

He didn’t want to die; he never really did. It’d been a knee-jerk reaction in the End. He’d just wanted to save Geoff. And then in the woods, he didn’t want to die either. But it was dark and scary and he couldn’t see another way out. He’d just wanted to keep the others safe.          

But now? There was no promise of danger. There was no promise of safety either, and they both feared the dragon’s wrath again. It didn’t have to happen. They could stay together, blend and bleed until there really was no difference between the two. And they could be happy.          

Or they could tear each other apart. They could pull and push and break each other just as easily. And the others could look at them with fear, trepidation, wondering when the next attack would come. And Michael would have to keep his sword sharp, and Geoff would have to keep his boys close.          

“We can’t live like this.”          

The dragon knew this, knew eventually it wouldn’t be enough. They needed to fly, to be free to come and go as they pleased. And they knew they’d grow bored of Achievement City just as they’d grown bored of the End. They would never be happy, not truly, to live within his mind.          

“I don’t want you to die.”          

“Then I won’t.” He shrugged, as if it were really that simple. “I’ve survived twice now when I shouldn’t have. Maybe three’s my lucky number.”          

The dragon sighed again, heavy and sad. Something in its chest hurt, felt constricted and sore. _Heartache,_ their brain helpfully supplied.          

“Let me have until winter, at least. I have never seen snowfall before. Grant this to me before the End?”          

He nodded solemnly. “It’ll give me time to tell the guys.”          

“Until then, for what it’s worth, I swear to you no harm will come to those we love.”          

“I’ll hold you to it.”

…

“I’m sorry, for all of this.”

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I think we're good on heavy Ryan stuff for a little bit
> 
> Time to start tying off other people's plot lines!!
> 
> I'm aiming for chapter 20 for the ending, so we're gonna be heading for the End


	15. Chapter 15

It wasn’t a difficult task really. And it should have only taken a few hours at most to gather materials. They hadn’t even bothered telling Geoff where they’d gone, just left a note taped to his door.

  
Working on a new project  
Be back soon  
-Ryan  
(P.S. Jacks with me, calm down)

  
And everything would have been fine too; they’d done this a million times before. So it fit that the one time they were a little too relaxed in the mines, a little too careless and easy, the entire way back collapsed behind them.

They were deep underground, rock walls washed with torch light, voices low as they walked along a well-worn path. Ryan took the lead, sure and confident in his steps as he scanned the walls for what they needed. He’d been rambling that morning when he’d shown up on Jack’s doorstep before the sun had properly risen. The medic was unsure if Ryan had even slept as he watched him explain with fervor his plan.

“So you wanna make a new potion?” Jack had asked, trying to parse meaning from Ryan’s too-quick words.

“I wanna make a better potion. It shouldn’t be too hard. We’ll need to go get some stuff, but between the two of us, it shouldn’t take too long.” The man smiled as he talked, decidedly more animated than Jack was used to.

“Why?” Ryan flashed him a confused look. “Why do you wanna do this now?” 

His smile faltered, and he looked down to fiddle with his nails nervously. He searched a long time for the right words, and he laughed mirthlessly before he spoke. “I keep getting myself into binds, and a stronger health potion is gonna make your life easier.” When Jack didn’t respond immediately, he continued. “I can get someone else to help me, if you want. I just, uh, I dunno. Think of it as a ‘thank you, Sorry I’m an idiot’ kind of thing.”  
Jack hadn’t hesitated to pat the man’s back and nod before he was gathering his gear and they were setting off. It was still too soon for Ryan to be out doing heavy work, but the medic figured trying to force him to stay back would be more trouble than it was worth. At least if he went with him, he could make sure he didn’t overdo it. Dragon or not, he was still recovering. 

He didn’t want to be pessimistic. He wanted to accept everything that had happened, was happening, and be able to move on like the lads. Part of him desperately needed everything to be on the up and up, to be getting better, to trust that everything bad had happened already and they could be okay.

And part of him just knew that this wasn’t over.

There was still a dragon loosely chained among them. There was still a monster and he’d cleaned up after every mess they’d made. Ryan was a patchwork of scars and stitches and there was no way he’d ever be the man he used to be. Michael still scowled at his sword when he thought no one could see him, and Gavin hovered nervously around the edges of everything, too afraid to get close again. Jeremy seemed tense and ready for a fight every time Ryan seemed to lose control slightly, while Geoff was trying to pick up all the pieces, or trying to convince himself that everything was fine.

Jack tried not to add anything to the mess, and he could feel it wearing him down. The others could see it too, he knew. There was no hiding how tired he looked, or how slowly he moved. And the bags under his eyes were dark like bruises and his beard was a mess and he just felt used up and empty.

He didn’t tell anyone, just kept moving forward.

They veered sharply off the path, down a tunnel they hadn’t used in years. It was stale, unfamiliar and the walls felt too tight around them. But Ryan didn’t stop, and Jack followed wordlessly as they weaved their way through ancient paths. His eyes seemed too dark in the low light, and once or twice when he looked back, Jack could have sworn his pupils were slits.

Part of him thought maybe the dragon was leading him to his death.

Part of him thought Ryan was just really fucking lost and didn’t want to admit it.

They crept further and further into the earth, well past their usual mining spots. There were fleeting memories of exploring there, back when they’d first decided to become adventurers, when it was just Geoff and him. They’d been bold, stupid, and it had nearly gotten them killed too many times. It felt wrong to walk those steps again. And, to his knowledge, Ryan had never been that way before. He shouldn’t know what was down there. And yet he was confident as he chose right at a fork in the road, only pausing briefly to listen in the dark.

“How do you know where you’re going?”

Ryan looked back, blinked owlishly, and shrugged. “I’m listening?”

“Listening,” Jack deadpanned.

“Yeah. So dragons have this,” he paused as he tried to find the right word. “Thing.” _Perfect._ “It’s like, I can hear different stuff. Okay, well not really _hear_ them, but I can sense them.”

“Huh?”

“That didn’t make much sense,” he floundered. “Fuck, I don’t know. I just know where treasure is and there’s a whole lot of it this way, and I want it.”

That was all that was said on the matter. In fact, that was all that was said for a long while as they wandered. It didn’t last long, and in hindsight, Jack really should have seen it coming. There was always something.

Ryan spun around quickly, eyes wide and glowing as he lunged forward. Large wings erupted from his back, tearing long slits down the back of his shirt. They couldn’t extend fully, pushed tight against the cave walls. Jack gasped, or really had the wind knocked out of him, as Ryan collided with him, curling his whole body protectively around him.

He heard the telltale hiss behind him and then the whole world erupted.

Everything rocked around them, thick vibrations racking through the ground below them. Heat surrounded them, soaked in through the webbing of the dragon’s wings. Ryan hissed, tucked himself tighter around Jack. And when the rapid blast of heat died out, the world continued to rumble. There was too much noise, too much motion, and Jack may have clung to Ryan just the slightest. Who knows really?

It was dark when Ryan finally drew back, and the air was full of dust. For just a moment, the bearded man wondered if he’d even opened his eyes. The pitch black was suffocating, heavy, and he jumped when he felt wing tips brush his arms. There was a muttered apology, too close to his ear, and he froze. The voice boomed around the tunnel, sung strangely in his head.

The dragon struggled next to him, no doubt trying to manage their wingspan in the cramped quarters. The medic swallowed down the urge to crawl away, his fear of the dragon overridden by his fear of the unknown. Next to him, the beast stilled, and there was a bitten-back groan that morphed into a soft sigh.

“It’s me,” came Ryan’s voice, tired but sure. Jack let go of the breathe he held.

“What the fuck happened?”

“I didn’t hear the creeper until it was too late. Blew up and took half the goddamn mine with it.”

“Where’s the torch?” Jack asked, fumbling about. He’d dropped it when Ryan had tackled him, but couldn’t find it in the dark.

Ryan shuffled next to him, laid a hand gently on his shoulder as he snuck past him. And there was that goddamn clicking, and a bolt of enderfire lit up the tunnel.

There wasn’t really much to see. The creeper took out a chunk of the floor, part of the wall. Worst though was the ceiling. A huge hole had opening up, the rocks now resting behind them, sealing the way back. Jack swore, and Ryan coughed as the fire ended and plunged them both into nothing. Neither had seen the torch.

“We could try digging,” Ryan suggested after a moment. He didn’t wait long for an answer, and in hindsight, he was probably talking more to the dragon then to Jack. Whatever they replied was done silently, and Jack listen on as Ryan began to change.

It sounded worse than last time. In the dark, it seemed louder, and the click and snap of bones shifting would haunt him forever. Ryan breathed deeply for a second, steadying himself in their merged form, and then the scratching started. All Jack could do was imagine those sharp claws carving into the stone, wonder how much they could really do. They surely cut through flesh easily enough.

He didn’t last long before he was backing away, panting. “Dumb idea, but worth a shot.”

Jack hummed from his place on the floor. Ryan moved back towards him, and he fumbled in the dark until he found the other man’s hand. It had been outstretched, expectant, and the soft pressure reassured him. The scales on his hands were strangely smooth, and the pads of his hands were soft.

The older gent pulled Jack to his feet, or at least attempted to. As soon as any weight was placed on his left foot, he crumpled down in pain. A sprain, most likely, he told himself. A pain in the ass, but nothing major. Ryan hovered around him, careful hands holding him up. Wordlessly, he snaked an arm around him, shifting Jack’s weight to support him. He accepted the help gladly and Ryan began to walk them forward.

“Can’t go back the way we came. But there has to be a way out this way, right? Or at least someplace the tunnel connect.”

“Does your dragon-sense thing tell you anything?” The injured man joked half-heartedly.

Ryan hummed. “Not really. There’s something up ahead still, and I want it.”

“Ryan!”

“I mean, we’re heading that way anyways. Just think of it as a detour!” Jack’s silence was unimpressed. “We came down for redstone anyways. The stuff back home is too old at this point. I need fresh.”

 “I can’t believe you sometimes. We’re literally stuck in a cave right now and you’re seriously thinking about your potion project?” 

“Okay, I know you don’t understand-”

“Because it’s stupid Ryan!” Jack yelled, and Ryan flinched back slightly.

“Jack-”

“No, Ryan. We need to get out first. We’ll get new redstone later. There’s no rush.”

The other man grumbled, but eventually nodded. They moved forward, slowly and quietly, with Ryan keeping one ear out for danger. The last thing they needed was another mob sneaking up on them. All his small oddities seemed amplified in the pitch black. The way his eyes seemed to faintly glow, pupils blown wide and dark. Or, at least Jack thought so. But eyes play weird tricks on people when they don’t get used. He was sure, though, that he felt the vibrations of Ryan’s tuneless humming, listened as it bounced back at them off the damp cave walls. And every once in a while, Ryan would just stop and listen, or breath deep through his nose. Strangely, Jack could have sworn he stuck his tongue out. He didn’t know how to feel about that one.

He kept one hand pressed to the wall, and Jack shuddered when his claws would catch and scrape. The bearded gent wished he’d just put them away, especially as he felt them press against him where Ryan was holding him. They were oddly cold, contrasted to the warmth that Ryan seemed to bleed from everywhere else.

“Oh, fuck!” He realized with a start. “Did you get hurt back there?”

Ryan chuckled. “Well, now that you mention it…” He teased. “I’m fine. My wings took most of it, and, surprisingly, I’m quite heat resistant.”

“Did you know that when you saved me?”

“I had an inkling. But I didn’t save you. The dragon was faster.”

There was another lull in the conversation, before it started to feel as if the walls were closing in on every side. He’d never considered himself claustrophobic before, but then again, he’d never been lost underground before. “I don’t get them.”

Ryan hummed softly, and Jack felt the noise buzz in the other man’s chest. It tickled, just a little bit. When they spoke, the dragon’s voice rang around him. “That seems to be the general consensus.”

 “Did you just decide not to kill us all overnight or what?”

“It was more than that,” the dragon started, although they paused briefly to smell the air. It seemed as if they’d come to another fork in the road, and the dragon lead them down the rightmost tunnel. “I explained it to the Wild One, but I suppose maybe I was unclear.”

“Jeremy,” Ryan chimed in, as if he could see Jack’s puzzled brow. “Wait, when did you talk to Jeremy?”

“You were sleeping,” the dragon confessed sheepishly.

“Goddamnit. You wanna ask next time?”

“I will consider it,” the dragon sung, a smile playing on the edge of their voice. Ryan sighed, but Jack didn’t think there was any real anger there. Mild annoyance, maybe, like when dealing with Gavin. “To my point though. It was not an overnight decision. It was days of seeing the aftermath of my actions, and realizing how much damage I had caused to the one I care for. And it was also analyzing my feelings towards you all. In the end, I realized I don’t hate you, or hold you responsible for what happened. I grieved, let my despair override my logic. It will not be repeated.”

“Do you really expect us to just accept you?”

“No,” they replied quickly. “I hoped, however foolishly, that one day this would all be a memory. But I’ve caused too much damage to just expect acceptance. I will be content if you all will accept this Hatchling back though.”

That made Jack pause. Of course they’d accepted Ryan back. There was never any doubt about it, not to him at least. Sure, he’d been an idiot, and sure, things looked pretty shitty at times. And sure! Jack had been completely worn out trying to pick the pieces up and keep everyone alive and together without so much as a thank you.

But it was Ryan. They’d spent too long putting him back together, and dealing with all his bullshit, to abandon him like that.

_If that’s what the dragon thought, did Ryan think it too?_

“We already did.”

“Then that is enough for me.” They were silent again for a moment. “I also wonder if you might accept an apology?”

Jack swiveled his head to blink, dumbfounded. “Excuse you?”

“It doesn’t change anything!” they stammered quickly, nerves making their voice shake. “Nor does it excuse the past. But I caused you harm, and I owe you a debt.”

“You never hurt me.”

“Physically, no. But I have made things difficult for you. You have healed this body well, and you have cared for us when we were weak. Without you, we would not be here today.”

And they were in the End again, and Jack could only see red. Ryan was held so damn tight in Gavin’s arms, and he was just so fucking still. _Dead,_ his mind screamed, and this time he was certain it was true. There was nothing he could do, no potion or salve or anything to bring the dead back. Lord knows he tired. Out there, in front of everyone, he did all he could to save them from that loss.

And, in the end, it wasn’t even him. It was that goddamn dragon.

“You did that.”

“I brought some natural healing abilities, yes. And it was the addition of my soul which prevented our first death,” the dragon conceded. “But you stabilized us. I was not enough to recover from the injuries sustained.”

Jack didn’t know what to say. Ryan had healed to fast, it was almost like Jack had had nothing to do with it. He’d done all he could, used every last bit of his training and experience. And he’d thought, after the dragon, none of it had mattered.

“And I want to thank you, in addition, for not letting my human die when I let him down. He deserved better.”

“I-”

“You are a better friend to him then I could ever be.”

There was nothing more to say, and the dragon lead them quietly through untouched caves and tunnels. Jack wiped at his eyes, ignoring the slight wetness there. Ryan didn’t comment, nor did the dragon. But the arm around him did give him a gentle pat, and that as more than enough. The small bubble of anxiety shrank inside, and he breathed easily as time moved immediately in the silence.

“I think I can accept your apology.”

The dragon hummed appreciatively, and that was that. 

… 

They stopped suddenly, and Ryan inhaled sharply, his hand tightening around Jack’s side. The claws poked him, dangerously close to breaking through his skin. He hissed softly, and the older gent immediately lightened up.

“I’m gonna put you down for a minute,” Ryan breathed, a strange note in his voice. Jack floundered as Ryan lowered him down, slowly, until he was sitting against cold stone. Ryan was gone, his footsteps carrying him away.

They were in an opening, if the way the sound bounced and echoes was anything to go by. The ceiling must have been high above them, spacious enough for Jack to hear bats chirping to each other as they flew around. There was also water; he could hear it dripping someplace close by, water meeting water in a steady trickle. Maybe it meant a way out, he hoped.

When Ryan spoke again, he was a good distance away, a whisper made loud in the emptiness. “Redstone glows when you active it, right?”

“You’re not still on the redstone things, are you?” Jack sighed. “Yeah, it does for a little bit.”

“Good.” Jack could hear the devious grin in Ryan’s voice. “Close your eyes.”

He did, and there was a moment of complete nothing before the cavern was filled with the loudest cracking noise Jack had ever heard. And his eyelids were bathed in light, bright to the point of being painful before he dared to open them. Ryan laughed, high and delighted and childish.

When he finally opened his eyes, he gasped.

There was an enormous chunk of redstone buried in the cave wall, standing far taller than either of them. It was brilliantly alight, casting a crimson glow across everything. And throughout its surface ran an impressive crack, snaking and spiraling downwards to Ryan, his fist still touching it, like he’d punched the damn thing.

In hindsight, that’s exactly what he’s done. 

“Good lord Ryan!” He squinted against the glow, trying to make out the details of his friend’s pale face as he turned. Light bounced off the scales on his arms, got caught up in the waves of his dirty-blond hair. And he smiled proudly at what he’d done.

“This piece of shit has been screaming at me the whole time we’ve been down here.”

 He could believe that. It was a huge piece of ore, impossible almost. And it had just been there the whole time, a city sleeping so near without even realizing it. They could do so much with even just a fraction of it.

“Holy shit.”

Somehow, Ryan smiled even wider, turned back to admire his find. “This would be great to sleep on.”

Jack snorted. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I wanna sleep on it Jack. What part of that was unclear?”

“Dude.”

“I don’t need your judgment.”

Jack rolled his eyes, chuckling. He watched Ryan for a minute, relished the fact he could actually see him. He smiled, because it was Ryan, despite all the new parts. He was still there, smiling, laughing, and standing proudly in front of his accomplishments. It was almost too easy to forget everything. It would have been too nice to forget everything.

Suddenly, he reeled back and punched the stone again, and another spider web blossomed in the glow. Before Jack could question him, or point out that he still had a small pickaxe in his bag, Ryan did it again. A solid, apple-sized piece broke off, caught easily in nimble fingers. He held it up proudly, shiny claws wrapped protectively around his treasure.

“This should be more than enough.”

Jack blinked. “Wait. You were supposed to be getting us out of here. Ryan! We talked about this!”

At least he had the decency to look guilty. “No, I know. I didn’t mean to come here. It just sort of happened.”

“Goddamnit Ryan!”

“Ok, but listen-”

“Are we even any closer to getting home?”

“Sort of? I have a hunch-”

“A hunch,” Jack parroted, annoyed.

“Yeah, a hunch,” Ryan huffed, gripped the redstone tighter in his hands. “There’s another tunnel that leads out of here. If you shut up and trust me for a second, I can check to see if it runs the same way we came in.”

Sure enough, when Ryan moved towards it, there was another opening. It was smaller, tighter and he very much did not want to go into it. Honestly, if he never had to go into the mines again, he would die a happy man. Too many tight spaces, too cold and dark and damp.

Ryan ducked in, and his footsteps carried him away. That was worse. He felt helpless, sitting in the redstone glow, unable to walk away if he wanted to. The dripping seemed too damn loud, and Jack twisted around to try and find it. There was just a small pool across the cavern, rippling as the steady drip fed it. When he thought about it, he figured the pond probably fed into something bigger too. Maybe there was another layer below them, a bigger cavern with bigger ore. It was a sprawling maze, and they’d dug deeper in certain areas already. It wouldn’t be too hard to imagine. They’d missed this, after all.

There was no way he was getting the rest of the redstone. He couldn’t find his way back if he tried. There were too many turns in the dark, too many forking paths and twisting walks. Ryan might remember more, but the way back was still blocked. Unless he’d found a way home, they were stuck.

He tried not to think about it. They’d been stuck before, and they’d always found a way out. There was always a way back to Achievement City, to their home, their family. He had to remember that, especially as time ticked by without Ryan returning. It was hard to tell how long he’d been gone. He would have killed just to know what time it was.

Geoff would start to worry after a while. He’d send the lads out to look for them, to tear the world apart until they were together again. Especially after everything. Especially since he didn’t trust the dragon. 

Of course, he shouldn’t trust the dragon either. None of them should. They were a monster. Hell, they’d even killed it! There was no reason to listen to them, no reason to humor their apology. Except monsters don’t apologize. They take and they hurt and they break without second thought.

The dragon had apologized, had been sincere, or at least he thought so. Surely Ryan would have stopped them if they weren’t. He wouldn’t let them lie and manipulate him like that. And that meant that they meant every word of what they said. He could trust that. He could forgive that.

In the warmth of the redstone light, he knew he could find a place for the dragon with them, just as they had with everyone else. 

... 

Ryan was ecstatic as he rushed back in, bundled Jack up and didn’t even let him get a word in before they were rushing down the slim corridor. And Jack was grateful for the chunk of redstone in Ryan’s free hand, its glow still bright and warm and comforting. It was so damn nice to see where they were going.

It was less nice to see a dead end.

But Ryan insisted it was fine, implored him to listen closely or to smell it. Apparently he’d forgotten that not everyone had dragon abilities and could not, in fact, smell anything but fucking rocks. Shyly, Ryan informed him there was smoke on the other side, torches. And that meant they were almost in a familiar part of the mines. They were almost home. All they had to do was destroy one little rock wall.

Jack couldn’t help, not with his ankle the way it was. It was the dragon who assured him it would be fine, that they could handle this. Jack couldn’t tell how, but the dragon seemed to know the wall was thinner, or weaker, then what had originally blocked them in. That, or they were getting desperate.

They dug like a man possessed. Cracked claws pulled chunks of the wall away, cast aside like nothing. By the glow of the redstone, he watched their face twist, watched glossy scales creep further up their arms until they dipped below their sleeves. Over everything, the clattering and scraping and breathing, the sound of twisting bones chased him. It would never get easier to hear. But their pace picked up, and the stone almost seemed soft as they ripped it to pieces. 

Warmth assaulted them as, finally, the rock gave way. The crimson light they were washed in was overtaken by the familiar buzz of torches, and Jack could have cried. They’d opened back up into a familiar path, one where he knew lead home. He cheered, despite how worn out he felt.

Ryan cheered too, as the dragon used his arms to knock away the last off the rubble in their way. Partway through, the sound changed, morphing into a tremendous roar as the dragon joined in. It rebounded around, amplified by echoes, and jack laughed. The dragon looked back shyly, as if caught red-handed. But Jack smiled easily at them, pushed himself off the wall and into their support. They beamed as he let them help him through the hole, and before he knew it, they were limping home.

No one spoke for the longest time, although both men sighed in relief as the night sky blossomed before them. Soft moonlight eased their eyes into the light again as they slowly approached the city. It felt very much like a homecoming, as if they’d been gone for months and home was finally in reach.

Strangely, the dragon was the first one to speak. “I’ve missed this.”

Jack nodded. “Coming back always feels good.”

“Do you think,” the dragon begun hesitantly,” that if we were to return to the End, we would feel the same?”

“Its home,” Jack smiled. “I’m sure you’d be happy there too. Until then, you’re welcome here.”

They hummed, and Jack noticed a faint smile cross their lips. “I appreciate your kindness. And perhaps we will take a trip sometime. We could explore the mines of my mountain.”

Jack groaned, and the dragon chuckled, a mischievous glint in their glowing eyes. 

…

Geoff very easily could have cried when he saw the two gents turn the corner. And after a snapshot moment of happiness, he could have screamed at them for hours. He fully intended to, once they got “the fucking hell inside the goddamn house, you motherfuckers.” They did, like two guilty little kids, and Geoff made sure they stayed put while he brought in the others. “They’ll wanna hear whatever bullshit excuse you two assholes have for giving me a fucking heart attack.”

When he’d stomped out of the house, door slamming shut behind him, the dragon looked over to Jack with a grin. “If he asks, this was all the hatchling’s fault.”

“You bitch,” Ryan swore, scowling to himself.

Jack smiled as they bickered, settled into the couch with a sigh. He wasn’t used to getting chewed out, and it was hard not to laugh at how red Geoff got when he was worked up. He knew how much he meant it though, how his care slipped into his tirade. They’d have to make it up to him somehow.

When he was done, and everyone was allowed to leave, jack finally found himself sinking into his bed. The blankets were soft, snug, and he sighed contentedly. Everything was fine. Everything had a glow to it, positive and warm.

He fell asleep with the first rays of morning streaming through his window, and he slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter, and I'm sorry it's not more interesting. But its things that had to happen
> 
> at least no one got hurt this time


	16. Chapter 16

It was properly cold outside, any vestige of summer snuffed out by the falling leaves and sharp winds. Everything progressed in those short few weeks, and no one was happier then Jeremy, who finally had his hand back. Jack had declared it healed enough for light work, and the lad indulged Ryan’s scrutinizing. He wanted to make sure it was fine, no scars or anything.   


The only scars from that day were his own and the bite mark on Michael’s shoulder. He kept it covered, mainly by the thick fur he wore more and more as the weather took a steep turn. And was Ryan was more than grateful to be relieved of yet another reminder of his mistakes. It was just one more reason to keep going with his plan.   


He spent too long inside, pouring over his brewing station, adjusting the ratios a little bit at a time. It had to be perfect. Without the dragon, there wasn’t a promise of him making it out alive. He desperately needed it to work.   


And he thought, tried to figure out how the hell to explain to everyone what he was thinking. They’d hate it, of course they would. It was ideal. It was downright stupid. But there wasn’t another option, not one that he could find. There weren’t exactly books written on this sort of thing, though he tried looking, just in case. Part of him entertained the thought of writing his own one day, a cautionary tale if he lived. When, he corrected, sprinkling a little more redstone dust into the bubbling mixture in front of him.   


The others knew something was happening, just not what. How could they not? He barely left his house anymore, unless it was to gather more supplies. Sure, they’d stop in and see him, sit awhile and talk, but the dragon took the lead more often than not. Ryan had to get this right, for their sake. For his.   


He didn’t want to die.   


So he gave the mixture another stir, scribbled some barely legible notes in his journal. It was full of scratched recipes, of possibilities and tweaks. But he was getting there, each iteration closer and closer to his goal. The potion bubbled, thick and dark and a little too close to the color of blood to sit well with him. More redstone dust, more notes, more work. His back ached, his shoulders were tense, and the dragon moved restlessly through his mind. When he finally stood and stretched, his back popped loudly. Too long spent hunched over a boiling pot. It made his head feel slow and stuffy, and the dragon tsked softly at him.   


“Hatchling,” the dragon chided, and Ryan huffed.   


“Can I help you?”   


They sighed, pushed forward to stretch their arms above their head. “You weaken us. Rest before you burn out.”   


Ryan stole his arms back, waved them off. “You sound like Geoff.”   


“Perhaps,” they hummed, “his advice is sound. You need a break.”   


“I feel fine.”   


“Don’t lie to me. I know you.”          

He huffed again, ran a hand through his hair. It was late, starlight pooling in the small window. He knew he should sleep, knew he still wasn’t getting enough at night. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the End, waiting for him. And it was red, and tasted like copper, and smelled too sharp. And he was too numb and too cold and too nothing all at once. He could feel it, holding him down, and he wanted to scream. So he knew he should sleep, and yet-        

“I don’t think I could if I wanted to. I’m in a weird place tonight.”          

The dragon hummed, rubbed at the stiffness in their shoulder. “If you are sure, then at least light a fire.”          

“Is the brewing stand not enough for you?” He asked, teasing, but still made his way over to his little fireplace, lit a fire, and settled down in front of it. The dragon sighed, content, and laid them down on the bare floor. Ryan wasn’t too keen, knew his back would be ten shades of fucked up if they spent too long down there, but the dragon was practically cooing as they curled closer to the flame. _Just for a minute,_ he promised himself, and in the same breath he called himself a liar. As long as they were peaceful, he knew they wouldn’t be moving.           

They watched, transfixed, as the flames grew, licked at the dry wood. Tentatively, they reached out a hand, let the heat bleed onto their palm. The warmth was comforting, grounding, reminded them of home. Fire-warmed rocks nestled deep within the earth, some eternal, infernal heat source singing them to sleep, nestled in a heap of treasure. Ryan scooted them closer still, and the dragon hummed, appreciate. Everything felt warm, soft, familiar.          

“You really are like a cat,” he mumbled, too caught up in the soft glow to muster up and real sass.

The dragon chuckled, drew their warm hand back against their body. It settled gently on their chest, and they pulled close around it, savored it, hid it from the rest of the world. Ryan closed his eyes, and everything was bright against his eyelids. But it was nice, and it reminded him of winter nights back home, when his mother would sit him in her lap. He’d watch her needle slowly stitch together the sides of fabric, mending some small little tear that all his clothes seemed to get. He was too active, she’d say, and his father would laugh, say he was just being a kid. And his father would stoke the fire, keeping the little family warm as snow fell softly outside          

“You have good memories,” the dragon remarked, voice low in the peacefulness.          

“They were good people.”         

“Were?” They asked, and Ryan opened his eyes again.          

“I lost my father a while ago.”          

The dragon was silent, staring at the wisps of smoke floating up from the fire, twisting the words over and over in their head. They were unsettled, confused, and Ryan gave them a moment to process. “I apologize. I don’t know what to say though.”

“You don’t have to say anything. It was a long time ago. It’s easier now.”

“I’ve never lost a parent before. I don’t really have any.” They paused a moment. “I suppose, in a strange way, I am my own parent.” Ryan furrowed his brow in confusion. “Beings of the End are not born in the same way as humans. I was not born until my predecessor died. Their soul found its way to my egg, and into me, gave me life.”          

Ryan thought for a moment, rolled over to stare at the ceiling. It didn’t hurt anymore to lay on his back, and the redness around his scars was starting to fade. “Do you have an egg somewhere then?”          

The dragon nodded.          

“You didn’t go into it when you died.”          

“Obviously,” they teased. “I found a better offer.”          

In his half-sleep delirium, Ryan laughed softly, and the dragon peaked curiously. “So I’m the egg then?”          

They barked out a startled laugh, and Ryan smiled around it. They laid there a while, dozing in the warm glow. They never quite fell asleep, although he felt exhausted. There was too much going on to fully relax, yet a little bit of the tension melted off his shoulders. The dragon shifted, the same strange feeling in his mind. They were slipping, he could feel it. It would be fine if they could just lay there, stare at the nothing as they fell apart.          

It felt like it had before, the two of them squeezed into a space meant for one. It wasn’t ideal, felt too much like a step backwards. But it was bound to happen, wasn’t it? Nothing stays perfect for too long.          

He tried to settle, but the ground was hard, and eventually he forced himself back up. The dragon whined, and Ryan stared for a long time at the brewing stand. For the life of him, he couldn’t force his brain to go back to work. It seemed stuck somewhere in memories and anxiety. A walk, he decided, would at least pass the time.          

He didn’t bother with a coat, still fire-warmed and cozy. The cold wasn’t even all that bad, at least to him. He did sort of feel like a personal heater, though no one else seemed to complain too much. He’d quickly become somewhat of a preferred companion when outdoors.          

Maybe that’s’ why Gavin was crossing the square to his house. The lad stopped at the sight, tentatively waved as the gent moved in.          

“You’re up late,” Ryan said, quirking an eyebrow at the younger man.          

Gavin shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. I saw the light in your house and thought maybe you’d like some company?”          

He smiled, nodded. “I was just about to take a walk. Wanna come?”          

Gavin nodded, and they set off, the lad holding maybe a little closer to Ryan then usual. He didn’t blame him. It was cold, and the wind blowing through them didn’t help. They didn’t actually walk for very longer either. They found themselves on a cliff overlooking the sea. It was peaceful, clear, something worth catching in a bottle and saving forever. Neither spoke, just stared into the distance for a silent moment. At some point, they agreed to sit, to waste some time enjoying the view.

They sat, legs dangling off the edge, shoulders knocking together where they met. The ocean churned beneath them, dark waves rolling endlessly into the distance. Somewhere, across everything, there was more. More land, more adventure, more fun to be had. One day, he thought, they’d have to go. He drank it in, like everything else, tried to savor the moment in case of the worst.

It was hard to be in the moment. He kept thinking forward, to his decision, to the End. He kept thinking about saying goodbye, about how hard the others would react, about how he knew, in that moment, he couldn’t do it. Someone else would have to kill him, and the thought of asking one of them made him sick. He swallowed hard, looked at his hands instead of the world, and choked down the sudden vertigo.          

Gavin shifted next to him, and when he looked up again, the lad gave him a curious look. He tried to smile, but he didn’t buy it. The lad leaned in, close enough that he only had to whisper to be heard.          

“If you don’t feel good, we don’t have to stay out here.”          

Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but the dragon jumped in first. “It is good for the hatchling to get fresh air and rest. He’s not been feeling well.”          

“I feel fine. Don’t listen to them.”          

Gavin paused, and his brow furrowed. “Why do you call him that? You know he’s got a name right?”          

Ryan huffed out a small laugh, grateful he didn’t push the subject. The dragon thought for a moment. “Dragons don’t have names, not like humans do at least. It’s strange.”          

“But you do know ours, don’t you?”          

“Of course, Gavin.” The lad squealed and the dragon chuckled. “There is Jeremy, the Wild One. And Michael, the Warrior.”

“What’s Geoff?”          

“The Leader. Jack is the Medic.”          

“What does Ryan call you?”          

“An asshole,” they replied, and Ryan barked out a surprised laugh. The dragon beamed.          

“That’s so mean Ryan!” Gavin giggled. “I think your dragon is lovely.”          

He played along in mock offense. “I thought I was lovely!”          

The dragon hummed. “We’re the same individual, I suppose. If one of us is something, then it stands to reason that we both would be.” They smiled wide, staring at Gavin with bright eyes. “I’ve never been lovely before.”          

Ryan rolled his eyes. “This is gonna go straight to their head, you know that don’t you?” Gavin grinned, and they all seemed to settle. That heavy, sinking feeling lessened for the moment at least, chased away by lighter times. It’d be back; it always came back, but he tried not to think about it. Instead, he focused on how chilly it was outside, how Gavin snuck closer and closer. Ryan wasn’t too bothered by it. Part of him hoped he wouldn’t lose that persistent warmth after everything.

Most of him wanted to keep all his new abilities. It’d be hard to be weaker, to lose the extra strength the dragon gave him. And he’d miss the claws. They were strangely useful around the house and surprisingly helpful in reaching hard to get itches. For certain, he’d miss the bright and colorful world he could see. Everything would be dull in comparison.          

He’d miss the dragon, for all their faults.          

He breathed out a sigh, leaned against Gavin. He was humming again, some quite tune to help him calm down. The dragon was weirdly considerate at times. He knew the lad could feel it vibrating in his chest. He’d love it, Ryan thought, and the lad cooed softly as they sat watching the world go by. It wouldn’t last long though, if the fidgeting was anything to go by. For all Gavin’s strengths, patience was not high on the list. He wished it could be.          

“You know,” Ryan started when the lad started to move more, “on nights like this, my mother would wake me up and we’d go sit on this little hill behind the house. She’d wrap me in the biggest blanket she could find and I’d sit in her lap.”          

“That’s sweet.”          

“Full moons were supposed to mean strong magic, or at least she said it did. Even the rocks were supposed to be able to feel it.”          

Gavin looked up, took in the vastness of the sky. There wasn’t a single cloud to be seen, swallowed somewhere in the dark. The moon was full, bright, and its light lit up the waves below them. Everything seemed lit by a cold fire, and the stars tried their hardest to shine as bright as everything else. And they were dazzling.          

Ryan breathed out a weak laugh. “It’s kind of funny actually.”          

“What is?”          

“You told me once that golems used raw magic to make the moon. Maybe you were right.”          

He scoffed. “Of course I’m right. I know what I’m talking about.”          

He meant to laugh, but it came out more like a sigh. The dragon pressed against him, sat heavily in his limbs. It felt too much, like if he slipped into the water, he’d be dragged down by them. Phantom warmth wrapped around his hand, echoes of flames, and he tried to catch them before they faded.          

They’d been okay earlier. They’d been okay for a while actually. But under the stars, with 

memories of a life lived long ago, it felt wrong. That ugly, horrible feeling was crawling back, and he couldn’t breathe around it. He wasn’t really who he used to be.          

He wasn’t really Ryan anymore.          

“Don’t,” the dragon breathed, worry painting the edges of their words.

“Is he okay?” Gavin asked, pulling away to stare at Ryan. His eyes were too green. They’d never been so damn green before, had they?          

“I’m fine,” he tried, but the dragon cut him off with a deep growl. His mouth snapped shut, and Gavin flinched. No one stepped back though, or made to draw weapons and attack.          

“Don’t lie to me,” the dragon snapped. “And don’t do that to your friend.”          

“I just,” he faltered, the right words to explain what was happening jumping away from him. “I’m lost in thought, I guess. There’s a lot to think about.”

“You don’t have to do it all tonight, Ryan.” Gavin’s voice was calm, unusual. He should have been scared, unsure. This wasn’t like him.          

He leaned back, ended up lying on his back with the sky above him. It felt endless, stretching on and on beyond them. It could swallow him whole if it wanted to. And it was a sky that looked too much like home, and he wanted desperately for his mother to be next to him. She’d tell him he was overthinking everything, overreacting. He was always a little dramatic, after all. And she’d tell him about the world, with all its magic and mysteries.          

“I never believed her,” he said, less to Gavin, more to himself. The lad made a funny little sound, evidently confused by the sudden shift. “I just liked seeing her smile. Those nights were just so damn calm and I never wanted her to feel like she was crazy or something.” He rolled his head over, looked up at Gavin with faraway eyes. “Have you ever felt magic?”          

Gavin squirmed, looked behind himself, back towards home. He smelled faintly of fear when he spoke. “I don’t know Ryan.”          

The gent continued, moving back to watch the stars. “I think I get it now. It’s like it’s in the air, winding itself around everything. I can almost touch it.” There was a silent breath. “I wonder if this is how she felt.”          

“Hatchling,” the dragon cautioned, voice wary. Gavin cast about again, lips turned into a deep frown. _Probably planning to get help,_ Ryan thought apathetically. He was freaking him out, he knew that. But he couldn’t bring himself to care much. There was something wrong. He was wrong.          

Cursing silently, he ran a hand through his hair. They’d gotten past all this. They’d been doing so damn well. It was just a bad night, probably brought in by too little sleep and too much work. _It’s just a bad night,_ he repeated to himself. _Tomorrow will be better._ Tomorrow they’d wake up and be fine. They could work together again, act in sync.          

The dragon sighed, and Ryan felt them retreat. They gave him as much space as they could, and it just wasn’t enough. He wanted to be alone, completely and totally. He wanted to just be himself again.          

“Ryan?” Gavin tried after the silence became oppressive. Ryan peaked out from under his hand. “You’re scaring me just a little.”          

“I’m not trying to.”          

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed, retreated under his fingers again. “It’s just one of those days we don’t line up. Sorry.”          

“Don’t be,” the lad replied softly. “You can’t help it.”          

“Tomorrow will be better,” he repeated, held onto those words like a dying man.

“Does this happen a lot?”          

“It used to,” he replied. “But the longer we’re together, the more we fall in sync. I’ve got too much in my head right now though, and it’s throwing us off.” If felt strange to admit it all, to lay out all the thoughts in his head for someone else to see. And it felt wrong to tell Gavin and have him nod along. He just seemed so calm. He was a different person than before. When had that happened?          

He continued, holding tightly to that tense ball of honesty. “I feel kinda like I’m getting pulled apart, you know? We want different things, different places. It’s just, it’s like we don’t belong anywhere.”         

“That’s not true. Dragon or not, you belong right here with us,” he insisted.          

“I want it to be that simple, Gav, I really do.”          

“Why can’t it be?”          

There were too many reasons to start. He wasn’t right, wasn’t good. Part of him felt coiled up and trapped, and he wanted to fly far away. And he wanted to hide under a sea of rocks and gold and be comforted by the smell of earth. And he wanted bright sunlight and roaming adventures. He wanted to sleep for a century and yet never close his eyes. Achievement City felt like home and a prison all at once.          

“As long as we’re together, I don’t think anything will feel right.”          

“You’ve got something planned, don’t you?”          

Ryan bolted upright, spinning to face his friend. He wasn’t ready yet. There was still so much to plan before anyone knew. The potion wasn’t even done yet! The whole plan relied on it. He couldn’t tell Gavin, didn’t want to tell Gavin. Everyone needed to hear it at once, when he wasn’t flustered and off-guard.          

The lad narrowed his eyes, and Ryan could practically hear the gears turning as he worked everything out. “That’s why you’re working so hard on your potion.”          

“Gav-”          

He pulled back, stared at Ryan with dark, angry eyes. “What are you planning to do?”          

“Please,” he begged. “”I can’t. Not right now.”          

Suddenly, the creeper-clad lad was on his feet, and he was properly mad. He sputtered a few moments, and Ryan shrank in the grass. Finally, Gavin nearly shouted “Dammit Ryan! Just talk to me!”

“I just want to say it all at once.” The gent’s voice was small, guilty, and that was apparently the wrong thing to say.          

“James Ryan Haywood, we didn’t bloody well go through all that for you to give up on us!”

“I’m-”          

“We didn’t spend the last few months helping you for you for nothing,” he shouted over him.          

“Please, just-”          

“You are one of my best friends,” he cried, and there were thick tears welling in his eyes. He wiped angrily at them, though it did little to help. And god, he was so upset. His whole body was tense, his breathing heavy and rough. Ryan hated it. He took a breath, continued. “Does that even matter to you?”          

Ryan finally managed to get his feet under him, take a tentative step back. Gavin’s eyes were hard, red, and he nearly screamed when he demanded Ryan stay right the fuck where he was. And there wasn’t a cloud in sight. And the moon set the waved below the on fire.          

“You can tell me right there,” the lad demanded, voice shaking with rage. It hurt.          

_You did this._           

“Gavin, please. That’s not what’s happening,” he pleaded, begged, all but got in his knees.

The lad shook his head violently, and finally tears broke free. He took a step forward. “Then tell me!”

“I’m not giving up,” he tried, taking a step backwards.          

Gavin took another step closer, and the panic in Ryan grew. “That’s not good enough.”          

“I’m not leaving.” His heart was beating out of his chest, and his mind raced to find the words to diffuse the situation. Nothing came up, nothing made sense. He was flustered, uneven, and the world tilted around him. Something needed to happen. Something had to fix this.          

_You did this._           

“Tell him,” the dragon barked, rising from deep within his mind. It didn’t help, and Ryan slammed forward to keep control. He didn’t need to fight with two people at once. The dragon growled viciously in his mind, and he swore ad they butted against him.          

“I just need a minute to think, dammit!” He shouted back. The dragon pressed again, and Ryan swore. He couldn’t make anything connect in his head. He could figure out what to do. “I can fix this if you give me a chance.”          

And the stars were dazzling. And the sky was vast. Everything was too fast. It had to stop. Everything just needed to stop for a second. He couldn’t catch his breath. He needed something, anything, to hold him in the moment, to keep him from floating away as the vertigo spun him in circles.          

Gavin took another step forward. If he could get to him, he could make him, understand how much he cared for him, how much he just wanted to help. Or he could get him home, to the others, so he could explain everything. They needed to know. They had to stop whatever Ryan was planning. They had to save him.          

Ryan retreated again, and his eyes went wide in surprise. A hand shot out, hung in the space between them, and then it fell back. Everything fell back. The whole of the night sky seemed to overtake the gent. And it took half a second for Gavin to realize the mistake.          

He reached forward with a shout, caught Ryan’s hand before it disappeared. They went forward, and the lad tripped over his feet. He couldn’t get a good enough grip on the ground, not as quick as he needed to at least. He tried to pull back, but it did nothing. He followed Ryan off the edge, and the world fell away from them.          

The moon was full, bright, and its light lit up the waves below them. Everything seemed lit by a cold fire, and the stars tried their hardest to shine as bright as everything else. And they were dazzling as the two men splashed into the water.          

_ You did this. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update, again. Work and life and school just get in the way. But we've only got 4 chapters left, so hopefully I can get this baby finished soonish!


	17. Chapter 17

 

The water hurt. Not the impact, not the sudden rush of cold, but the water itself burned white hot at every point of contact. He fought hard against the scream building behind his lips, twisting in his attempts to get away. Pinpricks of fire danced across his arms as he stirred up little bubbles around himself, and he bit down hard to keep his mouth shut. He barely noticed when his mouth tasted like blood, his tongue cut open by sharp teeth. There was too much else happening, and it was agony as he floundered, trying his hardest to get away from it all, a panic holding him too tightly.          

His lungs burned.          

He moved with a primal fear, something deep within him telling him to run, that getting away was his only option. And logically he knew that he just needed to calm down, to swim up. But the water felt too thick around him, like tar, dragging him down. Thrashing, crashing limbs did little against it, and the dragon screamed in his head.          

Brief half thoughts pushed against him. _Run. Drown. Gavin._ Despite how the salty water stung, he forced himself to open his eyes, wiping his head around frantically for any sight of the lad. But Ryan had sunk far, none of his attempts pushing him any closer to the glittering surface. Still, he tried desperately to go, fighting against the nearly overwhelming pain setting in.          

The dragon was no help, pushing periodically into his limbs to flail around. It did nothing, and Ryan struggled trying to shove them back. There was too much to do, to focus on. There was pain, and there was Gavin, and there was a fear of water he’d never had before. And there was a million other things that threatened his attention, and he was nearly dizzy with it all.          

His lungs burned.          

Blood thrummed in his ears, his head filled with a too-quick heartbeat. He needed air, just one good breath, and he needed it quick. But everything was getting sluggish, too much energy being used to stay in control, to survive. The surface seemed impossibly far away, and the edges of his vision were already faded and dark. Everything was so incredibly painful, and he fought against the urge to curl up against it all.          

Exhaustion set in fast, and everything felt so slow and difficult. But he didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop. The logical part of his brain worked to save them while the other half screamed in ancient fear.        

His lungs burned, and he just couldn’t take it anymore.          

Salt water filled his lungs and he choked on it. It burned even worse as it rushed down his throat, and then there was too much pressure in his chest. He gagged on it, and more water rushed in, and he was fucked. Spots filled his vision, and he was dizzy as his body fought against it all. His eyes slipped closed.          

He didn’t want to die.

…

Something beat against his chest, but he barely noticed. The dark was too thick, and he was too cold. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t breathe.          

It happened again, and the pressure in his chest increased. A wave of air assaulted him, and he coughed suddenly. And then he was back, a tremor shooting through him and he twisted, vomited water on the sand next to him. Air, clean and fresh, flooded in and he gulped it down, fighting through how light his head felt. He coughed again, painfully aware of how raw his throat felt. It took a moment to come back to himself, to notice how the cold had seeped into his bones, how shaky his entire body felt. How there were clear skies above him and dry land around him.          

How Gavin leaned over him, worry creasing his forehead.          

He was soaked, wet hair stuck around his face. Parts were shoved back, bits of sand stuck to blond locks. The moonlight cast a glow around him, making him unreal in Ryan’s fuzzy, waterlogged mind. Long fingers brushed through the gent’s hair, pushing it out of his face as he laid there gasping. An overwhelming exhaustion threatened to take him, and he struggled to keep his eyes open and focused on Gavin.          

The lad was shaking, freezing, and Ryan faintly thought that he should do something about that. But his jacket was back home. He’d left it when he was still fire-warmed and safe. Dimly, he figured a fire would do them good.  _ Someone should get on that. _ __

His eyes slipped shut, and they stung. Too much salt for tears to flush out properly, although he was sure there were wet tracks down his face. Or there would be, if he wasn’t completely soaked through. He’d take care of all that later, when he didn’t feel like floating away quite so bad. The fingers in his hair stilled, and he nearly whined at the loss. But he felt Gavin lean in close, and he smelled sharply of fear. Ryan wanted to assure him everything was fine. They were fine. He was fine.          

“Ryan?” He asked, voice strained.          

The gent was never one to disappoint, not when Gavin sounded so sincere, and he cracked his eyes open just enough to focus in the green eyes watching him. “Hi Gavin,” he croaked. Talking hurt, but the small smile it earned him felt worth it.          

“You scared me for a minute there.” Worry creased his brow. “What happened down there?”          

Ryan shook his head, let his eyes close again. Already, he could feel sand drying in his hair. It would be a pain to clean when they got home. The thought of more water made his stomach twist, and the dragon shifted in his mind. It wound Ryan up again, apprehension filling his core. 

“Creatures of the End do not fare well in water,” the dragon supplied wearily. “A little bit is tolerable, but being submerged is more than we can handle. I advise against repeating the experience.”’          

Ryan nodded, and even that took almost too much effort. He wanted to be home, in bed, and he wanted to sleep for a year. But he heard Gavin shift, and he opened his eyes again. Right, he hadn’t heard the dragon. It was easier to speak in his mind than to use his sore throat.          

“The dragon’s afraid of water. Can’t swim.” They both winced at how rough his voice sounded.          

With a heavy sigh and a good deal of help, the gent sat up. For a moment, the world threatened to fade out, and he held still as the light-headedness passed. He was still shaking, that didn’t seem to want to stop anytime soon. Whether it was from the cold or the adrenaline, or some combination of both, he couldn’t tell. But Gavin shivered next to him, and he let his attention be dragged away. They needed somewhere warm, somewhere dry.          

“We should get home,” he tried, more than a little put off by how some of the words cut out.          

“You almost drowned.” The lad’s voice was quiet, but there was something firm in it. Ryan stared at him, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong this time.          

“And I’d rather not get hypothermia next.”          

“Are we going to pretend like none of that happened up there?” Angry eyes bore into him, and he at least had the courtesy to look guilty. There was no way of avoiding it, he realized. He had to tell the others; Gavin wouldn’t let him get out of it. And he shouldn’t. They were his friends, after all. They were supposed to be there for each other.          

So why was it so hard to let them in?          

Geoff he could do, no problem. He’d already broken down once in front of him, and the older gent had promised to help him. But everyone else? He trusted them, that was certain. And he’d give anything to keep them safe. He had. He could do everything he needed to protect them, comfort them, assure them that everything was alright. They were completely capable of doing the same with him. There was absolutely no reason he couldn’t go to them.          

He wanted to.          

There was another sigh, and he buried his face in his hands, rubbing his tired eyes. Fingers trembled on his cheeks, and he didn’t want to think about how much was nerves at this point. True blue eyes glanced up at Gavin and the younger man’s anger melted at whatever he saw there. Something too vulnerable, too raw and honest.          

“Tomorrow?” The gent asked, and Gavin must have understood. He nodded, and helped Ryan to clumsy feet. He leaned against him the whole way home, thankful that Gavin didn’t push the issue any further.

…

Despite how overwhelmingly exhausted he was, he slept like shit. Dread weighed him down, and he couldn’t stop his dreams from turning dark. One moment he’d be underwater, thick liquid filling his lungs, and he’d wake gasping. And the next time he closed his eyes, he’d be standing alone in the End, every one of his friends having left him to die. The ground would be slick and red, and the hands holding the knife in his stomach were his own. He’d woken with tears in his eyes.          

There was no use in trying to sleep, even as his body and the dragon protested. He rose with the sun, sunlight filtering in through his small window. He groaned, pressed the heel of his hands into painfully weary eyes. There was nothing more he wanted than to fall back into bed and rest. But the apprehension made his shoulders tense and his stomach turn. There was so much still to do.          

The potion bubbled happily in its little pot. Cherry red and thin enough to pour easily, it was starting to really take shape. He gave it a stir, coaxed some extra Redstone powder to mix in properly. It looked good, perfect even, and it felt too real. He tried not to imagine having to use it, tried not to think about whether he’d made it strong enough or not. There wasn’t a good way to tell.          

He left, remembering to slip on his jacket to block out the cold. One lap around the square to calm his nerves. Two to waste a little time. Three just to end up at Gavin’s door. There was an answer before he’d even knocked, and by the rumbled hair and bloodshot eyes, he hadn’t slept much either. There was too much to think about between the two of them, too much still to say. Ryan didn’t need to explain himself; he was sure he looked the same. Probably worse.

No one was particularly happy about being woken up at the ass-crack of the world to be dragged to Geoff’s house for an impromptu “family meeting,” as Gavin put it.          

“And we’re doing this why exactly?” Michael asked, scowling at the two men who’d woken him up. The others had draped themselves across the couches, trying their best to stay awake. Ryan tried to keep to his distance, sit in one of the plush armchairs by the fireplace. Geoff took the other one, eyes watching Ryan closely.          

“Ryan has something he’d like to tell us all,” Gavin answered, and everyone shifted to stare at him.          

He never did well in the spotlight. It made him jumble his words and forget everything he planned to say. And with five pairs of hard eyes on him, he struggled to force anything out of his mouth. There was too much to say though; all he had to do was find a start. It’d be easy once he said it. He knew it.          

But how do you just come out and say something like that?

Gavin’s eyes narrowed, and Ryan knew what was coming. “You promised. You said you wanted to tell everyone at once.”          

“I know. I just-” He huffed, and the dread was seeping back in. Too little sleep, too much adrenaline. He wanted to take a step back, get away from the eyes and he anger and everything.          

Jack leaned forward, and damn the tenderness in his yes. “Rye, you sound like shit. Is everything okay?”          

His mouth snapped shut too quickly, and when it was clear he wasn’t going to answer, Gavin spoke for him. “He figured drowning was better than just _fucking_ talking to someone.” Ryan flinched back. Gavin must have been thoroughly pissed to swear like that.          

“What?” Geoff swiveled to look at Gavin. His shoulders were already a tense line, and Ryan felt a wash of guilt hit him.

“That’s not exactly what happened,” Ryan tried to explain, wincing slightly at how sore everything still was.          

“What actually happened then?” Michael challenged, rising instantly to defend Gavin, that fierce protectiveness bleeding out.          

“I tripped and fell off a cliff.”          

“You tripped?” Geoff asked, a note of disbelief in his voice that made Ryan want to pull his hair out.

“Yeah, I tripped. Is Jeremy the only one allowed to fall off things now?”          

Michael chimed in again. “And you just decided to take a little swim afterwards?”          

Ryan was up and on his feet, pacing slightly before his chair. There was too much to do, and too little time to do it in. The winter would set in soon, the snow would start to fall. There wasn’t time for all this. “No!” He barked, running a hand through his hair.          

Jeremy was up too, wavering in front of him, like he was trying to decide if he could get close enough without spooking him. “Hey, Rye-bread, it’s okay.”          

“Look, if you just talked to us-” Gavin started again, and Ryan pressed his face into his hands. He didn’t need this. He couldn’t handle this. He needed to leave.          

“He’s trying to!” The dragon roared, throwing their hands down and spinning to face the lad. Michael jumped in quickly, coming to stand between the two of them even as Ryan surged back in control. Everyone was on their feet, ready to run or fight if they needed to. And the dragon growled as they felt pinned in.          

_ Fuck. _

…

“Alright, everyone sit the fuck down and listen for a goddamn minute!” Geoff commanded, putting himself easily in between the group and Ryan. He had his back to Ryan, hard eyes to the rest of the guys. There was a heavy moment where nothing happened, where the hackles of the dragon remained raised before they shook violently, before Ryan took a clumsy step back and nearly collapsed into his chair. It took longer for the rest of them to come down, but Geoff was firm.          

Eventually, everyone finally moved. Geoff returned to his chair, but he didn’t sit, just leaned back on one of the large arms. Ryan’s restless energy was affecting him too, and the eyes on him didn’t help. But he took a moment, took a breath, and stared back.          

“I’m not a good leader,” he said finally, and at first no one could quite hear him but Ryan, whose eyebrows came together in confusion. His hands were trembling and he tucked them away, folded his arms across his chest. The dark ink in his skin stared back at him, and the images seemed to blur together. Too much stress, he knew, and he sighed heavily. It was quiet, and when he looked up, his family was watching him with tender eyes.          

“Geoff?” Jack asked, leaning forward. And god did he look so fucking concerned. They’d all looked too concerned lately. Maybe he’d just never noticed before, too caught up in the bliss of it all.          

“Sometimes I think I’m a really shitty leader. I’m just old and dumb and I’m not cut out for this job.” Someone tried to interrupt- Jack, he thought- but he held up a hand, hoping no one saw how nervous he felt. No one said anything. They never did, after all. Maybe they should.          

He continued. “I’m not brave. I love you guys.” It felt good to say it honestly, sincerely. “And I’d be devastated if anything happened to any of you. But I get stuck there, in what-ifs, and then I don’t do anything. I freeze and then Jack bails me out.”          

“I don’t mind,” Jack said, but Geoff didn’t want it.          

“You should. I ask too much of you. We all do. You never get a break and then I just expect you to clean up my messes. You should be able to ask for help too.”          

He turned slightly, focusing on Jeremy instead of how quiet Jack had gotten. “I’m not good either. I’ve known for ages that something's been bugging you Lil J.” The lad opened his mouth to protest, but Geoff interrupted. “Don’t tell me I’m wrong. Because instead of helping you, I ignored it. I kept putting things off because I didn’t want to deal with it.”          

Sleepy blue-grey eyes scanned his crowd, lingered on each face. They all looked so damn young, or maybe he just felt so damn old. It wasn’t fair, he told himself. They deserved better.          

_ You can be better. _ __

He moved down the line, and Michael squirmed under his attention. “I should have done more for you. I expect too much, and it’s not fair. It’s gotta be hard to always be so strong. I take it for granted, because I just assume you’ll protect my boys. I never thought about what that’s gotta do to you. But I should have.”          

He looked at Gavin, with heavy bags under his eyes and a blanket wrapped tight against him. But he didn’t look small. He looked strong, brave, defiant and determined. It made Geoff’s heart burst. “You’ve grown so fucking much in the last few months. I feel like I blinked and missed everything. Last thing I knew, you were beating yourself up because you thought the Ryan thing was your fault. And now you’re the one being strong. You shouldn’t have to be. That should be my job.”

Finally, he made himself look to Ryan. He was just sitting there, watching his hands, eyes hazy and unfocused. And it was like every time he looked at him, he was just a different person. He kept losing pieces of himself over time, and now he was just shattered. Six months ago, Geoff would have bet money that Ryan was the strongest out of all of them.          

“If it wasn’t for all this bullshit, and it is complete bullshit, nothing would have changed. It wasn’t until you looked me in the eye and told me you didn’t think you mattered as much as the others that I realized how bad I’d let things get. I had to tell you that you mattered, that we needed you as much has anyone else.”          

Ryan didn’t look up, but he sucked a silent breath in, held it for a long time. The others were casting looks around, trying to see if it were true. Gavin nodded. It made sense. Jeremy and Michael exchanged furrowed brows, and neither said a word as they moved closer to one another. Jack watched his fellow gents, eyes soft, full of love and kindness. And eventually, Ryan looked up, and he looked so fucking lost.          

Strangely, it was the dragon who spoke. “You’re not a bad leader. Despite what you may think, you’re good. You’re full of compassion, and this group would not have survived without you. I have long admired your heart, even if it sets us apart. This is a hard task, and there is much you have to do. But you care so deeply for your friends. There is so much love in your heart for those you deem family, and there is so little left for yourself.” There was a silence, heavy and thick. “You are all very much like that.”          

“We can’t stay that way,” Geoff said, and the dragon nodded. “We can’t keep setting ourselves on fire to keep each other warm.”

“What do you want us to do?” Michael asked, any and all bravado gone from his voice. He just seemed so damn young, so damn human in that moment. Geoff wanted to remember that, to let him have a minute away from being a warrior. Soft moments, sweet moments, when he could see the man behind the diamond sword and bear skin. Curly hair, freckles, and an honest smile that reached his eyes.          

“We ask for help. No more just waiting for it to come along and happen. We rely on each other and we tell someone when we’ve got a problem.”

There was another pause, a pregnant silence, and the room glowed. Early morning light drifted in from the huge windows. Everything was dawn gold and soft. And Ryan looked up, looked at Geoff with goddamn puppy eyes. He looked too human and the air was stuck in the leader’s lungs.

“We can start now, if you’re ready Ryan.”          

The gent held another breath, seemed to steel himself for what was he was about to say. Somewhere, deep down, Geoff already knew the words. “I need to go back to the End.”          

“Don’t tell me-” Michael started but Ryan was quick to talk over him. It was like he needed to say it all at once, or not at all.          

“I’ve been working on this potion to help, but I need you guys there in case something goes wrong, or it doesn’t work right. I have to go back to the End and I need someone to kill me.”          

Five men instantly set to speak over each other.          

“Bullshit!” Michael yelled, leaping to his feet again.          

“No, nuh-uh, no way.” Jeremy shook his head, hands coming up to cover his ears.          

“Ryan!” Jack cried, unable to say anything else as he sat wide-eyed and afraid.          

“You mingy lil’ prick. You told me you weren’t giving up!” Gavin was mad again, mad enough to jump up, to take a step towards Ryan.          

For his part, Ryan at least looked guilty. He shrank back, shrank down, tried to get away again. It broke Geoff’s heart. He could see the desperation in his eyes, how much he really did need this. But it was too much to ask, wasn’t it? After all they’d done, all they’d been put through to save him.          

“You promised.”          

Ryan looked back at his hands and Geoff followed. They were shaking so damn bad. “I know.”          

“You said no more taking the big hits.”          

“Geoff-”          

“I thought we were passed this. You told me, to my face, that you didn’t have a death wish.”

“I don’t!” He replied, loud and desperate. Someone had to believe him. “I don’t want to die. I mean, that’s been the fucking problem from the start, hasn’t it?”          

“Then why the fuck are we talking about this?” Michael crossed his arms, cast an angry glare around. Geoff didn’t believe it. He didn’t think the curly-haired lad was actually mad. Scared was more like it, and he lashed out to try and make it easier.          

Ryan wrapped his arms around himself, comforting. Those damn blue eyes were wide as they locked onto Geoff again.  _ For help,  _ he realized with a jolt. Ryan’s own, silent plea for someone to come and make it better. __

“I don’t want this,” Ryan said, quiet. Geoff wondered just who else could hear the waver in his voice. And he couldn’t get the image of him out of his head, curled up in his arms while he sobbed after everything had gotten too much, too loud.          

There was no doubt in his mind that this was not an easy choice to make, or one Ryan wanted to make at all.          

“You’re serious about this.” It wasn’t a question.          

Ryan nodded, and slowly the others sank down. Geoff had control. He’d figure it all out. “I don’t want to die. I can’t stress that enough. And I’m not giving up,” he looked straight at Gavin for that, and the lad looked away. “But the dragon can’t stay anymore.”          

“We can live with them, if that’s the problem.” Jack was sincere, gentle. His initial outrage had faded fast, and Geoff trusted him enough to pick up on Ryan’s distress. And he was surprised at how easy the medic could accept the dragon. Then again, he’d never given it much thought himself. All he knew was how upset Ryan had been and they couldn’t do that again.          

The dragon spoke, calm and collected. “I appreciate the sentiment, Jack. But I am a monster, plain and simple. I do not belong among men.” _They’ve thought this through,_ Geoff knew.          

“You aren’t a monster,” Ryan breathed, like they’d talked about this a hundred times before. Had they?          

The dragon hummed. “I am though. It’s not such a bad thing, and I am not the same as I once was. But I have caused suffering, and I have intruded into your lives. This is not my family.”          

“It could be,” Jeremy’s eyes were big, scared, as he practically begged.  _ Anything but this. _

“It’s a tender gesture,” they smiled. “But I am called to the End, to my home, and to my children. There is so much I want to show them. I want to teach them compassion as I have come to know it. I want to teach them joy in the simple things, in soft moments. Most importantly, I need them to know that being a monster does not mean being evil.”          

Ryan was quiet a moment, holding his hands together to try to stop the trembling. It didn’t work, didn’t stop it from spreading up his arms, through his whole body. He must have been downright terrified as the dragon kept going.          

“There’s more, lessons learned in ways I’d never think. Things like how someone can love another so much that they overwork themselves, or how physical strength can lead one open to emotional vulnerability. Enthusiasm can stem from feelings of inferiority, and tenderness does not equate to weakness. Leadership can end in indecision and doubt. And how there can be so much love in a heart for those you deem family that it feels wrong leaving just a little aside for one’s self.          

“There are so many human things I want to take with me, to my home, if only you all would help.”          

There was another pause, and Ryan took a shuddering breath. Geoff wanted to scoop him up again, hold him close and make it all better. If there was anything he could fight, he would. And if there was anything to give, he would. And if there was anything he could do, he would.          

“How long have you been planning this?” He asked instead, and kicked himself at how Ryan felt so far away.          

“Since pretty much right after we attacked everyone.”          

“I attacked,” the dragon corrected, and Ryan nodded,          

“And how long do we have to get ready?”          

The gent looked up immediately, eyes bright and hopeful. He was still shaking, still nervous and scared as hell. But he clung to Geoff’s words like a dying man. “First snowfall. That’s what we agreed on.”          

The leader nodded, stood up to face the group. He looked tall, silhouetted against the early morning light bleeding through the huge windows behind him. Blue-grey eyes sparkled, held on each member of his family. They stared back, watched him with a piqued curiosity. He looked proud, strong, decisive as he addressed the ones closest to his heart. 

“Alright Assholes,” because that’s just how things worked. But it made some small smiles flit across faces, so he counted it a win. “We’ve got a lot to do and fuck all time to do it in. Snowfall’s gonna come quick and I don’t want to be caught with our pants down. I’m going to the End with Ryan, and we’re gonna make this whole things right. Who else is coming?”          

There was hesitation, of course there was. Because it was unthinkable and full of impossible endings. And it wasn’t fair, none of it was. They shouldn’t be having to make this call. They shouldn’t be encouraging this. But it was Ryan. It was always Ryan. And he’d been through too much already. And he looked too small, staring at Geoff with startled eyes. The raw adoration here was so painfully obvious, and in that very moment, it was plain why all of this had even happened. He’d always protect them, no matter the cost. And they could do the same, couldn’t they? There was hesitation, but eventually, everyone agreed.

They’d go to the End. They’d kill Ryan. And they’d save him this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This lil shit gave me so much trouble. It was a pain to write, not to mention Valentine's Day happened (and I just so happen to be a florist) and school started picking up. It's getting harder to find time to write, but there's only 3 more chapters until the End. 
> 
> Hardships aside, I'm very excited to be going into the finale with you all, and I hope you've enjoyed the ride thus far!


	18. Chapter 18

It snowed two weeks later.          

There were small flakes, carried down on a chill breeze, and the whole world held its breath. They’d been waiting, watching the dark clouds roll in. Part of them hoped it was just rain. Why couldn’t it just be rain? They’d give anything to hear thunder, see lightning, stand in a downpour as every drop made their skin burn.          

But there was no rain, just soft white tufts falling sweetly, innocently. They fell gracefully, light and lithe and they stared in awe of it all. There was nothing like it in the End, nothing as gentle and beautiful.  _ A pity,  _ they thought,  _ to leave it all behind. _

A clawed hand peaked out of the doorway, waited for some of the snowfall to land in its outstretched palm. They melted away immediately on contact, their warmth apparently too much for the early winter treasure. Frowning, they emerged ever so slightly, eyeing the weather suspiciously. It didn’t hurt, not like rain did. But it wasn’t a proper snowfall; they knew what those were supposed to look like. Or rather, the hatchling did, at any rate. This was almost nothing.

But it was still snow, the first of the season, and their heart felt like it was breaking. It was all happening too fast. They’d hoped everyone had been wrong, that maybe a warm front would push the season off. But they stared up at the dark sky, trying to figure out which were snowflakes and which were falling stars. Why did it have to snow so soon? Why couldn’t it wait just a little longer?

They almost wanted to beg for just one more month. Just a little more time to be there, in that beautiful world, with its wide open skied and endless light. They wanted to know what laid beyond the sleepy little square. They wanted to see the big cities they’d seen in the hatchling’s fleeting memories. Or catch a glimpse of the end of the vast blue ocean. Or explore the forests that allegedly spanned miles and miles in every direction. If they could have had one wish, they’d use it to see something fantastic and be in the middle of the incredible, the others tucked closed to their side.

It wouldn’t happen, couldn’t happen, and they knew that. And they wanted to go home, or at least part of them did. The part entwined with the hatchling was nervous. Or afraid? They couldn’t quite make it out, but they understood. There were bad memories burned into that earth, hard to forget. Sometime, when they both closed their eyes to sleep, they remembered. Always the blood, the pain, the longing. And then the nothing, which was perhaps the worst of it all. No light, no dark, no sound or silence. Just the endless want to get away, go back, live. The small pinprick of hope flickering just out of reach. And the words that spilled from their mouth, spoken without knowing if the other could comprehend them.              

“What if I told you that you didn’t have to die today?”

They didn’t even know where it had come from, some deep, instinctual magic prompting them. A tickle in the back of their mind, desperate and persistent. They wanted it too, didn’t they? Another day, another breath. And it had been so easy to reach into that pool, to let the old arcana move them. The pinprick of hope grew, overtook them, and then they were nodding.

There was a humming thought their entire body. It bounced around their head and made their teeth buzz. They tried to hide their head, to block out the sound, but something kept them pinned down. Frantically, they tugged at their limbs, trying to move even the slightest. They wanted to roar, but their mouth too was held shut. The humming grew louder and louder and blocked out any sort of rational thought in their head.

They were warm, too warm, burning from the inside out. And they felt heavy, crushed, struggling to get a good breath in. Panic crept into them, and if they could have, they’d scream in frustration.

And then it all broke, like cutting a taut thread.

They blinked away the memory, took a deep breath to calm down. The hatchling was still sleeping, after all, curled up in the back of their mind. He needed it. Everyone was just so tense, so busy. There wasn’t any time to think. It would have made them realize how foolish the whole thing was. They hated it, hated what they knew would happened.

He would die, this precious little hatchling. They would kill him, lose him forever, and there was no amount of preparation they could do to prevent that. Everyone was just kidding themselves, hoping, praying. But they weren’t a fool; they faced the truth full on. And their heart hurt in the same strange way it did when the children were in danger, when the warrior took their life.          

All over again, they wanted to fight. A clawed hand curled into a fist, sharp talons stabbing into the soft pads of their palms. Deep in their throat, they growled, feeling it bubble up and up until the urge to roar made them almost sick. _Not here._               

In one fluid motion, they spread their wings, trying to push the pain of transforming to the side. The appendages stretched wide, well past their arm span, and they hummed. It felt good to free them, and it felt even better as they jumped up and took flight. They didn’t go far, barely left the square. Achievement City was still a beautiful beacon on the horizon as they soared over the remains of a charred forest. But there was still so much green left; the black patch hardly made a dent.          

They took a deep breath and suddenly the night was full of sound as their mighty roar cut deep. And, fuck, it felt so good to let it out. It felt good to be out in general, to be free. Part of them wondered if it would feel this good had the deal gone through, had they not royally fucked everything up. Maybe the hatchling wouldn’t flinch away so much from what they were. Or maybe he would have just hated them even more.          

They roared again, casting the thought away. There wasn’t any use in dwelling on what-ifs. They were doing this, no matter the cost. They had to. For his sake, this dear sweet hatchling. They would do anything just to see him smile and have it reach his eyes. And they would do anything to keep him safe, keep him alive and well.          

As they flew, the city shrinking behind them, they felt it. Something stirred in the back of their head, in the deep pit of their magic.          

It called to them, and they were helpless to listen.

…          

They set out for the End the next morning, and no one mentioned how tired Ryan looked. He couldn’t explain why. As far as he knew, he’d slept the night away. He didn’t think to question the new shirt he woke up in, nor how his palms stung.

He dreamt of flying.          

When they had come home, all those long weeks ago, it had taken a full week. But they’d been slow, Jack keeping a watchful eyes on the injured gent. They’d stopped often, rested longer than necessary just in case Ryan had a bad day, or his back bothered him too much. It only took four days to get back now, and then they were standing in front of the old hunting cabin again.              

It was untouched, except for the layer of white snow coating everything. They’d gone more north from the city, and the weather had only gotten colder. Snow started falling thicker, and Ryan couldn’t help but flinch whenever any touched bare skin. It didn’t hurt, not really, but he certainly didn’t enjoy the sharp sting it left.

In a weird way, it felt like home. Certainly it didn’t have happy memories attached to it, but they’d spent so long there after everything, and Ryan couldn’t stop the humming deep in his chest. As much as they’d hated it, and as much pain as he’d been in, there was still something special about that little building.          

He didn’t blame the others for not feeling the same. They all stared at it with clear disdain and forced themselves to enter. No one jumped up to take the far room, and Ryan figured it was only fair to banish himself there again. It’d been a good sick room before, so he settled in for much of the same. The lads would take the first room, and the other gents would camp out in the living room, just like before.          

The small mirror hung on the wall reflected dark eyes, and Ryan smiled softly at the dragon. “It’s just one more night.”

“It’s only one more night,” they countered, Ryan watching his mouth move. It didn’t scare him, not like it did the first time they’d shared his body. Their body. For just a moment, he felt a pang of sadness. He’d miss it. He’d miss them.

“Let’s make the most of it then.”

…          

They were moping. Then again, who could blame them? In the morning, they were doing the unthinkable. Everyone just kept going over worst-case scenarios, rehearsing their grief. So, naturally, they pouted and moped and brooded.          

Jack lit the bonfire, because what else could he do? His bag was packed, bottled clicking together whenever he moved it. He tried not to. Geoff sat to one side, hunched over his old journal. A hastily drawn map pointed towards the End portal, and he squinted at the chicken-scratch handwriting. It should still be open; they’d never bothered to go back and deactivate it. It’d be so easy to get there. Jeremy sat next to him, brown eyes focused on the warm flames in front of him.          

Michael stood apart, frowning into the woods. It wasn’t dark yet, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was out there. His hand rested on the sword by his side, but he loathed to draw it. He couldn’t afford any mistakes, not now, not with how hurt everyone was already. He could wait until he knew there was actually something to fight. A small, quiet part of him prayed there wasn’t. 

Gavin sat next to him, a bow resting on his knees. Intricate little details were carefully carved into the wood and the lad ran long fingers over his work. It’d taken a long time to finish, but he’d done it. A good replacement for the bow Ryan lost in the End. It would make for a good “get well soon” gift, he reasoned. Maybe they could take it hunting when he got better. Ryan would like that, he assured himself.

The man of the hour emerged sometime later, and a quick glance around told the mood. He frowned, hovered unsure by the door before moving aside. He wanted to sit with the others even as he settled in next to the small shed. But he couldn’t stand the mood, not when he still felt too close to breaking down. The last vestiges of his pride kept him together. He figured he owed them all that much.

Quietly, a silver lining stepped out of the trees. The Endermen hissed happily when its ever-glowing purple eyes landed on the gent. He grinned back, waved them forward. They smiled, or at least as best as and Endermen could, and spoke to him in the thickly-accented, garbled voice he’d come to love. Most was still incomprehensible, but it was possible to pick out a few words. Something like gift, something being new to him, something cold. They stood right in front of him, a seven-foot tower of childlike wonder, and almost reverently whispered “majesty.”          

It was still amusing to watch the creature squat down, dig up a pile of dirt and fluffy snow, and hold it happily out for Ryan to see. It was less funny to have that pile dropped in his lap. And he swore that smug little bastard was laughing as he jumped up with a curse.          

They warped away before he could say anything, and he stood swearing for a minute. There was a bubble of laughter, though, that threatened to burst. Because it was such a simple thing, easy and stupid and far away from all the dark and bloody thoughts. He smiled to himself, looked around to see where the little brat had gone off to. It’d be hard to dunk an Endermen, but he could damn well try. And although he didn’t find them, he saw something much better.              

“Jeremy, look over here for a sec.”          

The lad turned, and before he could register what he saw, his vision went white. And cold. And just a little wet. Sputtering, he wiped his face, and Ryan stood grinning. Too-blue eyes glinted mischievously, and the gent readied another snowball.          

“Ryan no!” Jeremy shouted, and he dove to the side as the missile flew wide. Someone shouted behind him, but the lad didn’t pay any attention. He barreled forward with a cry, dropping his shoulder as he charged.          

Ryan didn’t have time to react before he was falling backwards, significantly less air in his lungs. Snow did little to break their fall, and they landed in a tangle of limbs. Someone laughed as Ryan struggled, trying to sit up, but Jeremy pinned him down. The back of his shirt already felt soaked, and he struggled as the lad pulled more snow closer.          

His eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Don’t you dare,” he cautioned, trying to glare up at the lad even as his wiggling intensified. Jeremy smiled sweetly, innocently, and shoveled a handful of ice down the gent’s shirt.          

Geoff cackled at the sound Ryan made, something between a shout and a shriek. There might have been a swear lost somewhere in there, but it was drowned out by bubbling laughter as Jeremy leapt back. In a flash, Ryan sat up and reached out, grabbing the lad by the leg and dragging him down. Geoff howled at Jeremy’s scream.          

The leader turned to Jack, smiling wide. The smile quickly fell as Jack silently scooped up a handful of cold fluff and unceremoniously deposited it on Geoff’s head. He stared back with sad, resigned eyes. “Out of everyone here, you hurt me the most,” the leader sighed.          

“Geoff-” Jack started.          

“I trusted you!” He cried in mock-indignation, and he set upon his betrayer, grabbing his own fist full of snow. He slammed it into Jack’s shoulder, white powder flying everywhere. The younger gent laughed as he backed away, and any trace of tension faded as he watched his best friend fumble around trying to make a snowball. He followed suit, laughing at Geoff’s muttered curses.          

The younger gent was quicker, and his eyes sparkled as he launched his frozen missile. Geoff ducked, or more accurately, fell to the floor with a shout. The snowball soared harmlessly over his head, and there was a shriek from behind them.

“Jack, you smegging idiot!” Gavin cried, brushing the snow from his shirt. Michael laughed next to him, and he pouted up at his friend. “Micool, don’t laugh Micool!”          

“Your fucking face was priceless!”          

“I’ve been attacked Micool.”          

Michael smiled back devilishly. “And what the hell do you want me to do about it?”          

“Defend my honor!”          

The curly-haired lad snorted. “You know what? Fuck it.”          

Much like Jeremy, Michael charged right at Jack. The warrior slammed full-force into the medic. But, unlike Ryan, Jack was prepared. Strong arms wrapped around Michael and hefted him into the air. The lad laughed wildly as Jack spun them, and he kicked out as Geoff tried to sneak in with a handful of snow.          

“Hold him still Jack.”          

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing? We’re not snuggling here!”          

Michael writhed. “Gav!”          

The creeper-clad lad peaked up, darted back from his hiding place. “Michael! I’ll save you Boi!”          

“They’re gonna snow me Boi! They’re gonna- ACK!” He sputtered dramatically as Geoff managed to smash the snowball into his face. His freckle-dotted cheeks were bright pink from the cold, and he struggled harder. A stray kick caught Geoff in the side, and the gent stumbled. Gavin took his opportunity. With a cry, he launched himself at Geoff, wrapping lanky limbs around him from behind.          

“Holy shit, Gav!” Geoff swatted at the hands clasped in front of him. Overbalance with the added weight, the two of them toppled over, and Gavin shrieked as Geoff pushed him into the cold.

“He’s got me Micool!” He managed before Geoff started shoveling snow in his shirt.          

“I think this might be it for us, Boi.” The warrior struggled. “Let us go you bastards!”

“Hey fuckers,” someone shouted, and Jack turned to see Jeremy standing, one arm full of snowballs ready to go. Behind him, Ryan loomed, equally armed to the teeth, grinning like a shark. The lad continued, smirking coldly at his friends. “You heard the lady. Put ‘em down.”          

Geoff looked up from where he had Gavin pinned, a lazy smile painted across his face. “Hey lil J?”

“Geoff.”          

“Go fuck yourself.”          

He nodded. “Dooley noted.” He turned to Ryan. “You wanna go first or should I?”          

“Knock yourself out,” he hummed, and Jeremy smiled wide ad he launched a snowball right at Jack’s face. The medic swore, and loosened his grip on Michael just enough for the lad to wiggle free. He stumbled in the landing, but didn’t wait long before jumping to Gavin’s defense. There was a flurry of movement as the tables turned, and the two lads tackled Geoff. Any attempt Jack made to help was foiled as the other two pelted him.          

Jack, despite the hail of ice cold missiles, faired pretty damn well. He managed to gather some sow himself, and began to fire upon his attackers. And they laughed, bright and warm and so desperately needed, as the snow broke across their bodies. And it was nice, once everyone had to break apart to breath, cheeks rosy and the cold finally set in. All six retreated inside, wet and shivering and smiling harder than they had in a long time.          

It was easy, once everyone had changed and warmed up, to settle in. The rest of the day passed by softly, everyone huddled together in the living room. No brooding, no moping, no pouting. Just easy fun, telling stories and relaxing around the fireplace. They could almost forget about tomorrow.          

They fell asleep draped over each other for just one last night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies. I have no idea how snow do. I live in Texas, and not even the parts where it sorta-kinda snows occasionally. I've seen slushy snow maybe 2 or 3 times top


	19. Chapter 19

When he awoke, it was to the still darkness of the house. The fire had died out, or was put out by one of the others in the night. A blanket was wrapped around him, keeping the chill air at bay. Ryan didn’t remember getting it, or even really falling asleep for that matter.          

The others were still around him. The lads had made a pile on the floor, a mess of limbs and blankets and soft snores. Geoff and Jack were on the couches, dead to the world. Ryan stretched in the big chair he was curled up in, feeling every pop and crack his back made. He’d regret it in the morning, but he couldn’t make himself leave the others. He wanted them as close as possible.          

“It’ll be dawn soon,” the dragon hummed, and Ryan sighed. “It is inevitable.          

“I know, I just. I don’t know.”          

“You’re not scared, are you?” The dragon asked, strangely concerned as the shifted in his mind.          

“Not really. I know what’s coming.” He shrugged, watched the others sleeping soundly. Part of him felt creepy; part of him never wanted to stop. He wanted to bottle the moment, keep the quiet peace forever, another treasure in his hoard.          

“That doesn’t make it easier though.”          

He hummed. “We’ll be okay.”          

“Is that for my benefit, or yours?”          

In lieu of an actual answer, Ryan shifted, dragged the blanket closer, and kept watch. The dragon hummed, that same tuneless song as always. It was warm, comforting, and he never wanted it to end.

…

The others woke to sunlight pouring in through the windows, soft and kind and familiar. They sat up slowly, blinked the world into focus, and each was forced to remember why they were there. Because it was time now, wasn’t it? No more preparations to make, no more time to waste.

Jack stood first, wandered to his bag to double-check everything. Triple-check. There couldn’t be anything missing. It had to be perfect. Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed Jeremy coming up next to him, his own bag in his hands. The lad settles in next to him, reached hesitantly over and tapped his shoulder.

“Need something?” Jack asked softly.

“Yeah, I…” He trailed off, brows furrowed and frowning. He couldn’t find the right words.

Jack smiled softly in understanding. “I’ve got too much here. Think you could help me out?”

Jeremy sighed in relief, nodded happily. He took most of the bandages from the medic, stashed them away himself. A couple potions switched hands, and Jack’s load seemed so much lighter for it. But it was okay. It was good. He needed the help.

“If you want,” he started hesitantly, “I could use a hand when it happens. Will you help me?”

This time, the lad smiled softly. “I’d love to.” And they finished packing in a comfortable silence.

…

Geoff was pouring over his journal again. He’d memorized the map, could draw it in his sleep. But part of him insisted he look at it again. _Just one more time._ He had to know it. He had to get them there. And he had to get Ryan home afterwards. The others were counting on him.           

He looked up when he heard Michael approach. The warrior had his bear skin on his shoulders, his diamond sword hung by his hip. And his eyes were big and worried and Geoff gestured for him to sit next to him. Looking too relieved, Michael sat himself next to their leader. Neither one mentioned how close he sat, how he leaned into their contact.          

“What’s up buddy?” Geoff asked, closing his book and letting it sit in his lap.          

Michael took a deep breath, held it for a long moment. Geoff waiting. He’d always wait for one of his boys. “I can’t do it.”          

“Tell me? Or something else?”          

The lad scowled, almost mad at his words. He swallowed thickly before he spoke. “I can’t kill Ryan. I can’t do it. Not again.”          

Instantly, Geoff snaked an arm around Michael’s shoulders, hauled him closer. He leaned into it, and Geoff ended up with a cheek pressed into soft curls. “You don’t have to. I would never ask you to do that.”          

“But I’m supposed to be the warrior.”          

“No, you’re not. You’re supposed to be Michael.” Geoff rubbed his arm, trying his hardest to comfort him.          

“I don’t know what the fuck to do.” He sounded so lost, and Geoff hated it.          

“Do you want to be there?” He asked, and Michael nodded immediately, no hesitation whatsoever. “Then just be there. It’ll be enough.”          

Michael nodded, took a deep breath, didn’t move. Geoff didn’t mind. He’d memorized the map already, after all.

…

Gavin was the one to go get Ryan. The gent was in the far room, and it already felt so heavy in there. His sword was propped up next to the door, and his boots were kicked near the bed haphazardly. He stood in front of the small mirror, staring intently at his reflection. If he heard Gavin come in, he didn’t react, and the lad moved to stand next to him.          

Dark eyes flicked over to his reflection, and the dragon turned to face him. Gavin wasn’t scared, not like he had been all those times before. In the early light, on the somber morning, they just seemed so small. They didn’t tower over him, or glare darkly, or anything. They just seemed so damn human.          

They spoke, that strange voice filling the room. It was too loud and too quiet, far away and yet right in his ear. Indescribable. “I take it you all are ready to go then?”          

Gavin could have sworn they sounded sad. “Everyone else is ready. Are you?”          

They looked away, fidgeted with their hands. “The hatchling is, but…”          

“Are you?” Gavin asked again, took a confident step forward. They stayed.          

“I’m fearful, if I am to be honest.” They admitted, voice quiet and broken.          

The lad reached out, laid a hand on their shoulder. The dragon blinked owlishly back at him, and he smiled. “I’m pretty frightened myself. I think everyone is really. It’s a scary thing we’re about to do.”          

“How are you so calm then?”

He laughed dryly. “It’s not easy, I’ll tell you that. I keep hoping I’m gonna wake up and this’ll just be a bad dream.” Sadly, he smiled at them, brought a hand up to rest on their cheek. The scruff on their face prickled under his palm, but he didn’t move. The dragon startled a moment, and then melted completely into the small touch, like it was heaven. “It’s not a dream though, and we still have to do it. For Ryan.”          

They sighed, let their eyes slip close as they savored the moment. “Will you be with him?”          

Gavin smiled again, this time with a soft affection. “I always will be.”          

Satisfied, the dragon nodded and took a step away. Gavin let his hand fall and he watched them slip on Ryan’s boots. They paused at the sword, hand hovering awkwardly before they finally took it and slipped it on. Once it hung at their side, they turned back to Gavin. And they seemed bigger again, determined and strong.          

“No more delays,” they said, any nervousness stashed away. “To the End then.”

…              

It was very much the same as when they’d been there all those months ago. The sky was dark, vast, and black clouds circles overhead. The ground was rocky, jagged, and the mountains rose up all around them. It was easy to find themselves back in the clearing, memories of the hard battle flashing in their minds.

The enormous, dark skeleton didn’t help.          

Ryan stared at it, equally fascinated and disgusted. There were nicks along one of the eye sockets, and the dragon hissed softly. Jeremy’s sword had bitten hard that day, and the flash memory of pain made his stomach twist. They couldn’t dwell on it.          

Instead, he turned to stare at the peaks around them. He could practically see the tunnels in his head, and he smiles. Somewhere distantly, he could hear the call of treasure. Their hoard spoke sweetly to them, and he hummed. They’d missed this, the mountains and craggily rock, and the wide open skies to fly freely in. Their cave was close, glittering with gold and jewels and treasures untold. And beyond that, nestled in a valley overseen by the highest mountain in the whole End, the Endermen flickered in and out to build little rows of haphazard huts.          

It was home, as good as Achievement City.          

The others were watching him, and he took a breath. It was time, after so long, after wanting it so hard and so bad. It felt unreal and too real at the same time. He took another breath.          

“So do we say goodbye now?” He asked, and the dragon chuckled.          

“I’ve never been well-versed in those,” the dragon murmured. “And I do not believe for a moment that I have seen the last of you, Hatchling.”          

“There’s no reason to come back, you know,” he tried weakly.

“Visit me?” They asked, and they meant it, their voice soft and sincere. “Bring me stories of your adventures and your freedom.”

Ryan smiled softly, turned to face the others. “I will,” he promised quietly, so only they could hear him, and nodded to his family.          

The sword at his side weighed too much.

“Ready?” He asked, and no one looked particularly happy as they nodded. Jeremy and Jack shouldered off their packs, started setting out what they needed. The new potion sloshed in its bottle, bright red and thick enough to coat the glass. There was plenty. There had to be plenty.          

He drew his sword, and everyone sucked in a breath, but no one moved to take it. Michael slipped his hand into Gavin’s, squeezed tightly. The two medics buried themselves in their work, stealing cautious glances at the blade. He took another breath- why was that suddenly so hard to do? - and stepped forward.          

Ryan pressed his blade into Geoff’s hands and look at him with the bluest eyes Geoff had ever seen. “I know it’s asking a lot, but I need you to do this.”              

“Rye-” He started.          

“Please?” Ryan spoke over him. “Listen, you said you’d save me.” He looked down to the sword they both held. “This is how it’s gotta be.”          

The leader bit his lip, let the weight sink into his hands. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“It’ll work,” he assured, and god did he sound so fucking confident.          

“But-” Geoff started even as he lifted the sword from Ryan’s hands.          

“It’ll work, trust me. I swear to you, I will be okay at the end of all this.”          

“You could die for real this time.” His voice was small, quiet, and it barely registered to Ryan.          

He shook his head, places a hand on Geoff’s shoulder. And he was so different from the man Geoff held, or the one who’d’ stood in front of them trembling and asking to die. This man was sure and confident, strong. It was Ryan, the way he used to be, the way he should be. And it was almost too easy to believe him when he spoke.                 

“No more taking the big hit.”

“You aren’t even scared?”          

And he smiled so easily when he replied. “I’ll see you on the other side.”          

“I trust you.          

And the blade went deep in to Ryan’s body.

…

Dying was, as always, different then what he’d expected. Fire streamed from the wound as he gasped around the pain, and it was all the worse when the blade was pulled back. Instinctively, he covered it with his hands and his knees felt weak. And his face felt wet but he couldn’t remember when he’d started crying. Someone held him though, strong and steady and sure as his legs gave out. They spoke soft and easy, but he couldn’t understand them. Why couldn’t he understand them? God, he just wanted to hang onto their words so bad. He tried to focus on them, tried to forget the cold creeping up his arms and legs. His chest felt tight, and he struggled on a breath.

The voice faded. No, that was wrong. Everything felt faded. Not the ringing though. When had the ringing started? There was a hand in his hair and it felt too far away. It should feel closer. That wasn’t right. Another brushed away the tears on his cheeks and another hand held almost too tight to his. It didn’t hurt. Something should have hurt.

…

It took far too long for Ryan to die. He was shaking as Gavin threaded his long fingers through the other man’s hair. He didn’t react, just struggled to breathe as dark red blood ran down his body. The lad didn’t shrink back, didn’t shy away as his hands left dark smears in the dirty blond locks. He’d needed him there last time, so why would this be different?          

Ryan needed him.          

Jack kept his face dry even as his own tears streamed down his face and tangled in his beard. Ryan wouldn’t have wanted the others to see him cry; he was weird like that. And it helped, to look at his face instead of the steadily growing pool under him. Too blue eyes were locked on the faces above him, but Jack had to wonder how much he could actually see. He didn’t react as they moved around him, too far gone as his face twisted in pain. He gasped, coughed on a trickle of blood, and Jack tightened his grip on the bottle in his free hand.          

Michael didn’t hide his tears as he held onto Ryan’s hand. Jeremy wordlessly looped an arm around the curly-haired lad’s waist and held tight, face buried on the fur around his shoulders.          

Geoff whispered barely heard words, breathlessly promising that everything would be okay, it’s be alright. And he promised a warm fire back home, where everyone would try to be quiet for one goddamn day. And he promised to let Ryan pick whatever he’d cook for dinner.

 He promised to save him this time and he promised he’d never let it get too far ever again.          

The End was quiet, too still and too dark. No creature stirred as Ryan closed his eyes and sighed, dropping limp in the arms of his family. No one knew what to say.          

But the moment fractured and the five adventurers jumped into action.

…

An Endermen hovered at the edges of the clearing, watching events beyond its comprehension flicker by. The humans were there, the ones who didn’t hurt them, didn’t hate them. And it thought that strange, because they didn’t belong here, not when it was so dark and so dangerous for them. But the humans weren’t leaving, weren’t heading towards the portal.          

They were moving around something, and the Endermen couldn’t quite see what it was. But certainly it was important, because the leader of the humans was yelling commands, telling the others to hurry. The bearded human had something in his hands, a shiny glass bottle.          

They couldn’t help but think the dragon would love something like that.          

But then the bearded human did something strange, and there was something bright and red being pour. They blinked closer, hovering just above the humans, and watched with fascination as the shortest human lunged forward. Something soft looking, some fabric, was pressed against another. Was pressed against the one. _Majesty._ And they were still and silent and unmistakably dead.          

If they were gone, then that meant it was time. And with a happy chirp, the Endermen vanished.

…

Below the earth, where the Endermen flickered in and out of existence, underneath a sea of gold and jewels and dirt, something moved.          

A single crack on a monstrous black stone.          

It trembled with anticipation, with an overdue destiny. And it cracked again, and again, and from within came a purple glow. It burned brighter and brighter still, and finally the shell gave way. There was a roar, and in it lived a hundred thousand years of the End.          

The dragon blinked, it's dark eyes tracking the world around it. There was familiarity and yet no recognition at all. Deep down, it knew everything would come back. It always came back. They were unconcerned with the cave and all it treasures, although it did hum deep in its chest. There was something it needed to do, some pressing matter.          

Glowing eyes watched it, the Endermen seemingly almost to vibrate with excitement. And the dragon hummed at them, it's silly little child come to greet them. The creature hissed excitedly before it blinked away. The dragon was unconcerned. The child would come back, would bring with it riches from the other world.          

Black webbed wings fluttered, and the newborn dragon found themselves staring in wonder at them. There’d been no pain in the transformation. But then, there’d be no transformation. Of course there wasn’t. There was no need to manipulate their form. They were, after all, a dragon, not a human.          

They blinked owlishly a moment before it struck them. _The hatchling may not have made it,_ they told themselves as memories flooded them. A deal. A bond. A promise. And reaching into age old magic to try one last time to make up for the damage they’d caused.          

They took flight on new wings, speeding towards a clearing they’d probably hate for the rest of time itself. Purple eyes scanned the rocky terrain, landing with a sigh of relief on the strange collection of human that made that weird emotion bubble on their chest.          

They loved them so deeply, so dearly, and it broke their heart to think of how much they’d hurt because of them.          

Clumsily, they landed a small ways off. No one seemed to notice them, and they shuffled forwards to get a better look. Instantly, they regretted it. They’d never seen the hatchling so still, so pale before. There was nothing in the hand that Michael clung to, nor in the body Geoff held tight. Jack had his pack opened, a collection of bottles clattering as he went through them. Something smelled sweet as Jeremy poured a splash potion over the wound. When the bottle ran empty, he pressed a cloth to it, trying to stop the bleed. Gavin’s long, slender fingers hovered around the hatchling’s neck, checking for a pulse. There had to be a pulse.

After a moment, Geoff looked up and the dragon stared at the tears falling, unabashed, down his face. “He’s gonna be okay. He said so.” And he smiled, as if he knew how worried the dragon was. It touched, that even after everything, someone was trying to make _them_ feel better, as if this wasn’t their fault. But they didn’t want this. They didn’t want to lose the hatchling.          

The dragon tried to respond, but they couldn’t form the words. Without a human tongue, all they could manage was a rough whine in the back of their throat. They crept forward, tail tucked tight against them, head bowed, careful as they moved amongst the tender humans. Even as small as they were, roughly the size of a horse, the spikes on their body could hurt their little family. They wouldn’t do that, couldn’t do that ever again. And as soon as they were close enough to press their snout against the wounded man, they laid down.          

“Hatchling,” they hummed, casting their thoughts out around them. “You are strong in spirit and in heart. Surely you care not so ready to give up yet? There are still so many fights unfought and deeds left undone. And so many lives left lacking without you in them. Fight this, to come back to us. To me. Please?”          

They pressed their snout against him again, enjoying the closeness between them for perhaps the first time. The faint smell of the human city clung to him, under all the blood. Nuzzling close, they tried to take everything in at once: how he smelled, how he looked, how his heart fluttered faintly in his chest.          

Suddenly they pulled back. A heartbeat meant he was alive, if barely. And being alive meant he had a chance. Turning the Jack, the dragon nudged him, a growl somewhere deep in their through. He had to act. He had to save him.

Jack blinked up at them, almost surprised to find them there. The man sighed, tentatively patted them on the snout. “We used his potion, so it should be jump starting the healing process. It’s a waiting game now, to see if it works.”

The dragon flicked its tail, agitated. There had to be more, anything. Another potion, another something! Someone had to fix their Ryan dammit!          

Gavin squealed suddenly and everyone wiped around to look at him. “I’ve got a pulse. The bloody thing worked!”          

And there was a flurry of movement. Michael and Gavin stepped back as the two medics descended on their patient. Potions and bandages passed from hand to hand and the dragon watched fascinated. And they could hear it, that beautiful pulse. It wasn’t strong, but it was steady, better than before. Even the faintest bit of pink had returned to his cheeks. He was far from out of the woods, but anything was better than nothing.

“Jack?” Geoff asked after a long moment.          

“I wanna get him home. He needs somewhere safe and warm where I can really get in there.”          

They set to work quickly, gathering their gear and their wounded friend. No one paid much attention to the dragon, and they supposed that was fine, even as their tail thrashed nervously. They needed to focus on Ryan.          

“Hatchling,” they hummed, casting out their thoughts again. “I know you don’t understand me, can’t hear me like you once could. But perhaps my sentiment will make itself known to you, and somehow you will know the things I have to say to you. I dearly hope you hear me while you dream.          

“I admit, I had not planned on staying with you and your kind for long. However, you people were so much more than I thought you to be. You are kind, welcoming, good. I am honored to have known you.          

“Perhaps, when you are well, you will make good on your promise and visit me? Seek me out; I feel as though we have much to discuss. Our break was never going to be a clean one, and you will find you are not the same as before we met. I know I am changed in many ways, but I do not regret a moment of it. I will cherish what you have given me.

“I will not say goodbye, even now. I don’t know that I can really. You are strong, and you will persevere, and you will do great things one day. Come back to me, please?          

“Until we meet again, my dear lovely Ryan.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry


	20. Chapter 20

It seemed too quiet in the room. No one wanted to move, to breathe, as they waited for Ryan to wake up. They tried to give him space, let Jack do his job while the rest simply hoped the new potion was enough. It had to be enough.

Someone was always with him, and there were many times when all five of them would crowd into his bedroom, barely talking. It took time to come back from the dead, they knew, especially when the one thing that had pulled him through last time was gone. But his heartbeat was there, no longer just a fluttering in his chest, but steady and proud.

There was color to his cheeks, and on occasion he would twist someway in his sleep. Jack said it was a sign of healing, said it was good. But it didn’t feel good when his brow scrunched up and he groaned. And it didn’t feel good to see how red soaked his bandages came away. It didn’t feel good to know he was in pain. The potions covered most of it, they knew. And maybe that was worse. There was still so much for him to feel.

And they waited for him to wake up.

…

The lads sat close. Gavin perched on the end of the bed, watching every move Ryan made in his sleep. It wasn’t much, but he refused to miss a single moment. “Just in case,” he’d said. Michael sat on the ground, back pressed up against the mattress. Fingers twitched against his knees as he forced himself to relax, to stay. There was nothing left to do, and it killed him. Jeremy leaned against the doorframe, and he wanted nothing more than to run out into the main room and tell the gents that Ryan was awake.

But he wasn’t, not yet. So he simply scowled at the floor, crossed and uncrossed and crossed his arms again.

“Did either of you think,” Gavin started when the silence got too loud, “that we’d end up like this?”

“What do you mean?” Michael asked, turning ever so slightly to look at the lad. His curls crushed against the bed, and he looked more tired than ever.

“When we first started talking about the End, did you think this is where we’d end up?”

“I didn’t think any of us were gonna die,” Jeremy confessed, voice small despite how he scowled.

Michael nodded. “I figured if anyone was gonna get hurt, it’d be me.”

“I’d never let anything hurt you, Boi.” Gavin cooed, leaned forward to put a hand through Michael’s curls. No one thought to mention how much he leaned into it.

Jeremy smiled at them, at two of his best friends. He memorized their smiles, how even then, in the dark and uncertainty, they could find something to lean on. And he played their laughter in his head over and over again. It helped. It chased away the crying and the screaming and the blood and the End. When he closed his eyes, he saw them, all of them, smiling back at him.

It was easier than the last time. That sinking feeling, that uselessness and inferiority, it was all gone. He could breath, and he could smile, and he was enough. Things would be better. They had to be. They always were.

And they waited for him to wake up.

…

“You should get some sleep.”          

Geoff looked up, smiled wearily at Jack in the doorway. He looked good, and it made the older gent proud. His beard was tame, his cheeks rosy, and when he smiled back at him, it reached all the way to his eyes.          

“You’re sleeping better this time.”          

The bearded man nodded, came to stand next to the bed. A careful hand felt Ryan’s cheek, and the sleeping man rolled his head away. Despite how hard he hoped, Ryan didn’t wake up, but it was progress. He’d take it. He needed it.          

“The lads are a huge help,” Jack said a moment later. He pulled his own chair over next to Geoff, sat just a tad too close. He didn’t mind, just wordlessly laid his head on Jack’s shoulder.          

They stayed like that for a while, let their company be just enough for just a moment. The light in the window dimmed in their silence, and Ryan shuffled a few times, and maybe just once Geoff caught a glimpse of blue eyes. It didn’t last long, and Ryan was out again before he could even mention it to Jack. But he didn’t mind, let himself fall into an easy peace. After all, everyone else was there, in arm’s reach if he needed them. They could handle it. He could handle it.          

The lads laughed next door, and he smiled. Jack glanced down at him with a smile of him own. It was okay. Everything was okay.          

And they waited for him to wake up.

…

It was morning when Ryan finally woke, and in the stillness of the world, he wondered where he was. He felt too tired, and it was almost too easy to relax back into his dreamless sleep. Something Jack gave him, he assured himself. But there was no pain, so he couldn’t bring himself to care.          

He didn’t want to open his eyes and face the world. The limbo space between the real world and his hazy sleep was tempting, and the pillows behind him were too soft. He was too tired to exist and opening his eyes would make everything suddenly very real again.          

But it was quiet in his head. Nothing hummed or shifted or sighed. It was just him, and he was thirsty, his throat thick when he swallowed. His limbs felt cramped and stiff from disuse, and part of him said he should be hungry. His stomach rolled at the thought, and he breathed hard through the wave of nausea that hit him.          

There was no point in putting it off, so he finally relented.          

When he opened his eyes, there were five pairs staring straight back at him. And they were dull, he though. Simple colors, easy to pick apart and name. He couldn’t explain, couldn’t put into words what was missing. After all, the colors he struggled to remember didn’t really exist to him.          

It was quiet too. He couldn’t hear the thrum of their hearts, or their stuttered breaths, or anything beyond his room. Strangely, it felt hollow, different, wrong. He cleared his throat to break it and the room exploded with voices broken by happiness.          

For a moment, none of it made sense. Everyone tripped over each other to share their excitement. Ryan laughed, because it was just stupid. They were stupid. And he loved every second he was around them. So he laughed, high and hysterical and just a tad painful. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He was there. He was safe.          

He was home.

…

It took a long while to get back to the city. It took a long while to do most things really. Without the dragon, recovery was hard. With how everyone fluttered and fretted around him, recovery was possible. They stayed for every step, every bad night, and every popped stitch. And he let himself love them more than he could ever express.

Achievement City was exactly the same as it always had been, even as the full might of winter coated everything in a thick blanket of snow. It was big and beautiful and as soon as it came into view, the six adventurers let themselves start to relax. It was late, moonlight casting cold light on everything, and they soaked it all in. Despite the danger, they’d traveled through the night, too eager to rest. No mobs bothered them, but the glowing eyes of the Endermen watched from the shadows. No one noticed, or said anything if they did, as the creatures keep silent vigil over them.          

The city slept as they entered, slipping silently down the streets. After so long away, the buildings towered above them and boxed them in. But it was familiar and everyone wore a smile. And they grew ever more excited when they finally reached their square.          

It was separate, just off the main body of the town, and it gave them privacy without isolating them. Six houses, as different as the men who owned them, sat facing a common green. There was extravagance with Geoff’s house standing many stories high, like a small castle. And there was humility as Ryan’s small home sat to the side, meager and peaceful and littered, as always, with wild animals. Jack’s gardens guarded his modest dwelling, while Gavin’s own jumbled mess looked haphazardly build, but cozy nonetheless. Jeremy’s home was nicer, carefully crafted and decorated for his arrival to the group, while Michael’s seemed plain and sturdy, simple yet strong. 

They stared for a moment, each a little too shy to say goodbye, too shy to say they didn’t want to do it. Ryan sighed, sagged a little where he stood, and Jeremy looped an arm around his waist to support him. It’d been a rough trip on him, and he still felt unsteady on his feet for too long. Wordlessly, Geoff nodded them all over and opened his house for one more night spent together before life really got back to normal.

…

It was months later, and the forest was alive around him. The early summer brought with it a lushness that it hadn’t had before. Everything was fresh, bright, new. And the sun was warm on his skin where the light filtered through the leaves, gracing him with a faint tan. He’d spent enough time indoors, thank you very much, and the entirety of spring had been spent enjoying the world in ways he hadn’t in years. He felt refreshed, new, and whole.          

Birds sang above him, heedless of the man stalked low in the brush. Most creatures paid little regard to the hunter, seemed to think the woods were finally safe. After all, there hadn’t been a mob sighting in months. Everything was peaceful and the world kept turning as if everything was fine. And it was fine, really.          

The hunter took a tentative step forward, and arrow notched and ready. The bow in his hands felt light and the raised details carved in the woods were familiar under his touch. They were surprisingly smooth, like dragon scales ought to be. Gavin had done a fantastic job on it, and Ryan was more than excited to accept the gift. A hunting trip was planned for as soon as he was well. And another after that. And another before they finally just set a standing date. Once a week, just the two of them.          

He had a lot of standing dates, but he wasn’t complaining.          

He moved forward slowly, one careful step after another, moved silently through the woods. It’d been quiet, very little to actually bring back to the city, but if her were honest, that was fine. There had been plenty of fruitful days and he was more than happy to just be in the moment, in the warm sun, in the quiet peace. _Gavin would have better luck_ , he thought as he finally relaxed his bowstring and slung the weapon over his shoulder.          

It was maybe a little too easy to get lost wandering aimlessly through the trees. And the turns and twists blended together in his head, and he paused long enough for the thought to cross his mind that all the woods looked the same. And then he kept going, slowly picking his way forward, hoping to maybe run into Gavin, or somehow find his way home.          

He stopped when he heard them, and his heart jumped in his chest. Three pairs of ever-glowing eyes locked onto him, and the creature closest to him turned fully to face him. It stood there, seven-foot-tall with spindly black limbs stretched far beyond what a man’s should look like. The back two hissed to each other, while the first one blinked closer, reappearing just a breath away. The Endermen reached out, a great clawed hand coming to rest on the top of Ryan’s head.          

And it ruffled his hair and let out a screeching laugh, and _dear god he could cry, he was so excited._ The other two blinked closer, each wanting to see, touch, feel Ryan standing before them. They chittered happily to each other, smiled in the charming, strange way that they do. And he laughed because nothing they said made sense to him, but they were there and they remembered him and they still loved him.          

They spoke to him, voice heavily accented and garbled, but he couldn’t pick out any words. He didn’t think he could, but it was fine. They were fine. It was more than enough to just see them again. The Endermen didn’t seem to notice, just kept speaking quickly and happily and animated.          

One by one they teleported away, coming back with gifts. Dirt and stone and sand and he loved them all. He didn’t bother telling them he didn’t want a hoard anymore, that the materials didn’t sing to him in their quiet way anymore. There were just a couple of things he’d kept, pieces of gold or diamonds, a handful of small emeralds that always seemed to sparkle despite the low light. Those he kept tucked away under his pillow. It helped him sleep, he reasoned, so why move them?          

“God, I’ve missed you guys,” he said through a smile so big it hurt, and the poor creatures lit up at that. “You can visit you know. The guys would love to see you again.”          

Again, they hissed happily, and one dropped a hand to tug on Ryan’s sleeve. He laughed, brushed it off, but they persisted, something serious in their eyes. He didn’t need to understand them to get the meaning.          

“I can’t visit right now. They’re waiting for me back home.” The Endermen pulled again, chittering almost desperately. It broke his heart just a little bit. “I will soon, I promise. Hey, come on. Calm down. Please?” They stared down at him with wide eyes, sad eyes. “What if I send a gift, yeah? Is that good enough for now?”          

That seemed to work, and the creature let his sleeve go. They practically vibrated as he patted himself down. He hadn’t brought much with him, at least not anything special enough for the dragon. Just his knife, his bow and arrows, his-          

He plucked one of the long arrows from his quiver. It was light, and the iron tip glinted in the summer sun. Gavin had made them to match the bow, and Ryan smiled softly at the fletching he’d picked. Two purple feathers, and one black, as dark as the End itself. He held it out, and the Endermen took it carefully between too-long hands. And it smiled, and then all three blinked away before he had a chance to tell them goodbye.

It’s how Gavin found him, staring at the empty space where the children once were. And 

Gavin, bless his heart, didn’t comment on how Ryan’s eyes were brimming with tears before he blinked hem away and smiled just a touch sadly.          

“I thought I heard Endermen,” the lad said softly, and Ryan nodded at him.          

“They just stopped by to say hi.”          

“That’s so sweet Ryan. They must miss you.”          

Ryan didn’t need to say it. They both knew how much he missed them too. Instead, they turned and they went home, and Gavin teased Ryan the whole damn time for getting lost.

...

He should have expected something was up the minute Gavin insisted they leave extra early that morning. He should have expected something when Geoff was outside moving chests. And he really should have expected something when everyone kept giving him all these damn looks when they were leaving.          

But he didn’t, so when he walked into the square, it all took his breath away.

It had never looked better. There were so many lights strung from roof to roof. Some were big lanterns, some little jars with little slivers of glowstone rattling around, and some still were buzzing from the warm energy of redstone. It cast everything in a warm glow, and it felt set apart, magical.          

There were lights in the trees, on all the houses, around the tower, that set ablaze all the crystals decorated around the place. Red and green and gold and some deep dark blue color that stole away his breath. And god, he wasn’t a dragon anymore, but he swore he could hear it all singing to him, and something deep inside wanted to curl in all the treasure and sleep for a thousand years. A pull in the back of his mind nearly had him humming again, that deep vibration missing from his chest.          

There were tables of food that had his stomach growling, and music was playing from somewhere he couldn’t see, and Ryan stared in awe of it all. It looked like a proper party, and everyone cheered when they saw him.          

“What the hell is all this?” He asked, sweeping around to take it all in. Everyone looked so nice too, cleaned up and already a little rosy in the cheeks. Drinks somewhere had already been handed out. And it was truly everyone. Lindsay hung on Michael’s arm, grinning like a devil. Trevor and Alfredo were camped out by one of the tables, trying their hardest to be ignored as they flicked bits of food at one another. Matt hung back, adjusting a light hanging from Jack’s porch. And there were so many more, friends from deep in the city they never really saw.          

“It’s a party, you mong.” Gavin cooed, taking him by the arm and dragging him towards their little circle.          

“I can see that. But why?”          

Geoff smiled at him, laid an ink-covered hand on his shoulder. He looked so clear, so proud. “Because a year ago, today, you save my life. And I think we were all a little too tied up in everything to say thank you properly.”          

He furrowed his brows, looked around again as if it would all disappear if he stopped looking at it. “I thought we were mad at me for that. Are we not mad?”          

“We weren’t mad,” Jack interjected. “Not about that at least.”

Geoff stared him in the eye, soft grey and deep like pools, and spoke to him like they were the only two people on earth. “I was mad about why you did, and what you thought about yourself.” Ryan dropped his eyes, stared at their shoes. He didn’t think Geoff owned shoes as nice as those.          

The older gent shook his shoulder lightly. “Look at me Rye.” And who was he to say no? He looked back, found nothing but love and care on his leader’s honest face. “You saved me, and we’re all okay now. And I know it’s a year late, and there’s so much shit between then and now to deal with, but I’m finally saying thank you. So shut up, go change, and let us do this for you.”          

He laughed, because what else was he going to do? He nodded, and he dressed up to look the part of the quest of honor, and he went to the silly little party his friends had thrown him. And he danced and he laughed some more. And he ate more then he probably should have and he laughed again. And he let all of his friends share their affection, open and honest and just so damn good, and he laughed.          

It was stupid. They were stupid. But he loved them so much it hurt. And they were happy, and that was enough.

...

There was a pull in the back of his mind, and it called to him when he looked too closely at it. It was warm, ever-present, alive. And when the snow began to fall for the first time that winter, he answered. A single adventurer from Achievement City, bundled in his warmest clothes and carrying his dragon scale bow, had very little trouble finding the portal. He smiled wide at the Endermen guarding it, listened closely to their chittering, even though he found no words. And when he stepped through he did so with his head held high and joy pulsing through his heart. It was to be a homecoming of sorts, and he was more than ready to be there, to see them again.          

He’d gone to the End, of all places.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. That's all I've got. It's been 8 months in the making (more then that technically, but 8 months of actually writing chapters) and its's about six times its planned size. And I am proud of it, and I hope that you all have enjoyed it just as much as I have.
> 
> On to bigger and better things now!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys! This is my first fic, so any positive feedback or constructive criticism is appreciated. I've got the next few chapters planned out, so they should be coming hopefully soon. I've got the end in mind, so it's just a matter of getting there!
> 
> Also, I've got a tumblr up for it now! drabble-by-ash.tumblr.com   
> I'll be updating with chapter information, fun facts about the story and its progress, and anything else I can think of


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